The Lion and the Serpent
by Frankietown
Summary: Harry and Draco are going to fight. In the room of requirement. What if their fight turns into something neither of them expected? This is where slash came to party.
1. Fucking Useless Rooster Alarms

_***A.N: Frankietown? Back so soon? I know. I didn't take a very long break, huh? And I'm in college now! Woot woot! Okay...so here's the new story I talked about. It's my slash fic for Harry Potter...and there be some delicious Malfoy on Harry action! Lemons lemons lemos...what to do with all these lemons? Haha. I'm hoping for some of my readers from my last story...I love ya'll! If you're back, then hey! I missed you guys! If you're new to me, then welcome. I'm a pervert and I love it. Don't worry. You'll learn to love it too. Also, my gorgeous beta, i'm so glad you're still with me! I love you so much, babe! I know slash wasn't your thing, but thanks for telling me this story converted you. It made my ego cum. Read and review, because reviews make daniel radcliffe take off all his clothes. **_

**Fucking Useless Rooster Alarms**

Draco Malfoy cursed, looking in the mirror and scowling at his reflection. He had woken up late. He eyed the source of the problem. His broken Shrieking Rooster Alarm. Every morning the brightly colored marble rooster would shriek such things as "WAKE UP, YOU DUNCE!" or "OUT OF BED, YOU LAZY GIT!" A gift from his father. It seemed as though he'd gotten bored of simply insulting his son in person or by owl post. No, now he had marble roosters doing his job for him.

Draco supposed he must have somehow knocked it over in his sleep, because now all that was left of it was broken shards of bright red, yellow, and orange. And no one had bothered to wake him up. Though, if it had been him, he wouldn't have woken anyone up either. He would have left the unlucky git asleep. He _was _a Slytherin after all.

He cursed again, turning away from the mirror in distaste. He didn't have enough time to put a charm on his hair to make it it's usually gelled back self. Now his icy blonde locks were hanging over his bright grey eyes. His pale blonde hair was very messy; unruly, even. It looked like he had been freshly shagged. He hadn't really even had time to dress properly; He had on a white tee-shirt, green and black striped tie, and _jeans. _Jeans, for Christ sake! God. He must look like a filthy Muggle.

"Fucking bullocks, twatting, shit," Malfoy groaned, pulling on his shoes. He was so messy he looked like…like…fucking Potter. He looked as messy as Potter. What had his life turned to that Draco Malfoy looked like stupid fucking Harry goddamn Potter? There was really no time to ponder it over as he rushed out of the Slytherin dorms. He hadn't even had enough time to get his perfectly folded robes out and put them on, he was lucky to even have his Slytherin tie on. He shuddered to think of entering potions class in his jeans and white shirt.

"I look like such a twat." Malfoy grumbled to himself, now sprinting to the potions classrooms. He was getting odd looks from everyone he passed, but he didn't bother throwing insults or trying to explain himself. He didn't need to. He was a Malfoy. Still, he felt a rush of pink in his pale cheeks. And his fucking hair kept flopping into his eyes and he had to whip his head to get it out of the way.

"-out of uniform. What a disgrace!" He heard a portrait yell at him.

"Sod off!" He called back to it, but kept up his pace. By the time he was in front of the potions door, he looked even messier. For one, his white tee-shirt was no longer tucked into his jeans, and his tie was looser around his neck. His jeans had slipped lower, exposing a thin strip of white flesh and the black elastic band of his underwear. He took a deep breath and slowly opened the door, hoping he could sneak in. Though really, there was no point in hoping. He'd stick out like a muggle at a quidditch match. He peeked his head through the door. Bullocks. The class was already making potions. Severus was walking around the class, stopping at Longbottom's desk and eyeing his cauldron with obvious revulsion. He was saying something now, but Malfoy wasn't listening. He was more focused on trying to creep in as silently as possible. He had managed to ease his slender body through the tiny amount of room he had allowed himself through the slightly ajar door. He tried to close it silently behind him and was going to sneak to the empty seat left for him beside Crabbe and Goyle when the door creaked obnoxiously loudly. It was as though it was trying to bring attention to his presence. Everyone in the class turned their heads to see where the sound had come from. What they saw was a very out of uniform Malfoy with his hand on the doorknob and his eyes wide with horror. The Gryffindors were murmuring to each other, and loads of them were laughing under their breath. His eyes went to Potter and his crew of dimwits. Potter was smirking smugly and Weasley looked like he was about to wet himself with joy. Malfoy's expression turned into a cold snarl and he straightened his posture. Severus was eyeing him up and down, an eyebrow raised. The Slytherins looked properly shocked at his appearance. Crabbe and Goyle gawked at him dumbly.

"Go to your place, Mr. Malfoy." Snape said coolly, turning back to Longbottom, whose potion was now puffing out bright orange smoke that smelled of rotting pumpkins. Malfoy smirked. He had known Severus wouldn't get angry at him. If Potter had been late, Severus would have punished _him. _Malfoy took pleasure in that fact for a moment. His eyes flashed to Potters, and the expression on his face made him think Potter had just thought that himself. He walked with his nose in the air to his seat, trying his best to ignore the snickering Gryffindors. When he got to his table, Pansy turned to him.

"Where are your robes?" She whispered.

"My fucking alarm broke, didn't have enough time to get them on." Malfoy said, shrugging as though he wasn't embarrassed at how ridiculous he looked. Her eyes flashed to his hair.

"And your-?"

"No bloody time." Malfoy said, running his fingers through his out of character soft, silky hair. It felt weird.

"Well, you look…you look-" Malfoy took in a deep breath. She was going to say he looked like a muggle, "-good. You should always wear your hair like that."

Malfoy was shocked. "Are you mad?" Malfoy asked. She was eyeing him up and down with obvious appreciation. She must be lying. There was no way he looked good like this. Without wizard robes he felt naked. She was just sucking up to him because she fancied him.

"No really, you do. You look…bloody gorgeous actually. I mean, you always look fit, but today…" Pansy trailed off dreamily. He raised an aristocratic eyebrow at her. It was definite now. She was bloody bonkers. Crabbe and Goyle looked uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken, and to be honest, so was Malfoy. He knew he looked like a prat, and sometimes Pansy really laid it on too thick. He had never really liked Pansy that way, though sometimes he flirted with her when he was bored. He'd even fooled around with her once or twice. It only ever led to snogging or a little groping, but it never really did anything for him. He'd just have to resign himself to the fact that nobody was really going to be good enough for him. He was Draco fucking Malfoy. He really did deserve the best. Still, it felt good to have someone so obviously idolize you. But right now her simpering look was giving him a head-ache. Might as well throw himself into potions and try not to hear what the Gryffindors were most definitely whispering about him at the moment

Harry frowned at the potion he and Ron were currently trying to stop boiling over. It was a moldy green color, and it was supposed to be lime green.

"You put in the dried newt gizzards too soon." Hermione offered.

"Thanks heaps, Hermione. That's helped a lot. Now all we have to do is go back in time and-"Ron started.

Hermione reached forward and slapped him on the back of the head.

"Bloody hell, 'Mione," he said, rubbing the back of his head, ruffling the bright orange hair there and scowling.

"Serves you right for being so moody," Hermione said, though smiling a little.

Harry smiled, shaking his head. They should just shag already and get it over with. It was their 6th year and they had put it off long enough. It was obvious they fancied each other. He wasn't going to say anything about it of course. Snape had just walked over to Neville's table which was before Harry's.

"Shit. Snape's heading this way. He's probably going to make us start all over again," Ron said.

"Or drink the whole thing." Harry said, grimacing. The potion they were making was meant to be a potion which gave whoever drank it painful boils the size of apples. He wouldn't put it past Snape to make him drink it.

"You don't think-", Ron started, but a loud creak interrupted him. They turned, looking towards the sound. For a moment, he hardly recognized the person standing in the doorway. But the bright blonde hair immediately identified him as Malfoy. But he looked so….different. He was out of his uniform robes. His angular face was the same. His bright grey eyes were the same. But his usual snide expression, which made Harry want to punch the pointy git in the face was replaced with one of…horror and poorly concealed embarrassment. He almost looked like a muggle, if it weren't for the green and black Slytherin tie. He was wearing jeans which were low on his flat stomach, resting on his jutting out hip-bones. There was a clear V on his hips, leading down into his jeans. His white tee-shirt was a tad tight, clinging slightly to him. The biggest difference was his hair. It was a blonde mess. It flopped over one of his eyes. It looked like actual human hair, and not the crisp calculated look it had before. Malfoy, it appeared, wasn't his usual neat self. He must hate how he looked. Harry smirked. He liked the thought of Malfoy being embarrassed. Serve the twat right. He no longer looked like the pureblood he always bragged about being. As though he could hear his thoughts, Malfoy turned his eyes on him. The vulnerable expression changed instantly back to the usual arrogant snarl which made him look like an insufferable twat. Harry's desire to punch him in the face returned.

"Whoa! Look at Malfoy! He looks like a muggle!" Harry heard someone say. He agreed.

"I reckon his father would send him for a dementors kiss if he saw him like that," Ron said, grinning from ear to ear. Harry nodded in agreement.

"Go to your place, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said, like a student hadn't just walked in late and out of uniform. Then again, it didn't surprise Harry. Snape would let Slytherins get away with anything. Especially Malfoy: his golden boy. Still, Harry frowned. If it had been him, Snape would have made sure to humiliate him in front of everyone and then dole out some extravagant form of punishment.

"Of course he'd bloody let Malfoy get away with it." Ron mumbled, turning back to their potion which now looked like swamp sludge. "You know, I reckon they're having an affair."

Harry laughed at this.

"I bet Malfoy has seen under those black robes hundreds of-"

"Urgh don't be fowl." Harry said, his nose wrinkling. He hated Malfoy and Snape so much…the idea of them together….he might vomit into the failed potion before him. He glanced back at Malfoy, who was talking to the Pansy girl. She was eyeing him like she hadn't had a drink in days and he was tall glass of butterbeer. Harry supposed he looked better with his hair down and not slicked back, but any way you looked at Malfoy, he was a pointy faced self-involved twat. It was odd how being out of his robes could make someone think for one second that he might actually be a normal, maybe even decent person. But harry knew what Malfoy was. And he fucking hated him. For some reason, seeing him like this, he hated him even more. He couldn't quite tell why though. But there was no need to question it. He'd always hated him.

Potions class wasn't as awful as Draco expected it to be. He usually liked potions class, what with his godfather being his teacher the class was cake. And he was good at potions. Well, he was good at everything. Once again, it sort of went with being a Malfoy. The laughing had stopped off rather early on, but throughout class he heard snide remarks that were meant to be heard. Remarks, he thought, which weren't the respect he deserved as both a pureblood and a Malfoy. A few of those remarks had been courtesy of Potter's bum chum Weasley. He must look pretty damn ridiculous if _Weasley _was making fun of him. Maybe if insults cost money then the filthy ginger would keep his mouth shut.

Still. It hadn't been as bad as he thought. Yes, he looked like a muggle, but the instant class was over he'd go into his room and get his robes and he'd fix his hair and he'd be back to his perfect self. And so it was, the very second class ended Malfoy made his way to his dorm. He didn't rush. No, he proudly walked with his chin up as though he didn't care that he looked like a complete idiot. Crabbe and Goyle would have followed him, but they were busy harassing Longbottom, which suited Malfoy just fine. Apparently, they were trying to see if they could pour some of the potion they managed to steal from their cauldron down his robes. Normally, he'd want to be a part of this, but he had his own robes to deal with. As he made his way to the Slytherin dorms, he caught sight of an unruly black mop that was meant to be hair. Harry fucking Potter. Was he following him now? Maybe so he could edge in a few insults about his wardrobe? Malfoy stopped in his tracks. Looks like Potter was without his carrot top and bookworm friends. He crossed his arms and let his face contort into a self-righteous snarl.

"Well, if it isn't_ The Boy Who Lived_. To what do I owe the profound pleasure of having you as my stalker, Potter?

As it was, Harry wasn't following Malfoy. He hadn't even seen him, though he wasn't hard to miss. Harry had split off from Ron and Hermione to go outside. Maybe to Hagrid's hut. Maybe to go by the lake. He didn't have class next and he had the odd urge to be alone. The last person he wanted to see was bloody Malfoy. Harry was already in a bad mood. He'd been having nightmares every night, which meant he had barely any sleep, and the sleep he did have wasn't very restful. And now Malfoy? Great. Bloody great.

"Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy." Harry said, not particularly wanting to get into a fight. He just wanted to go somewhere and relax. He wasn't in the mood for this. Although…his temper was a bit on the black side; a good fight might do him well. No. He shouldn't stoop to Malfoy's level. He turned, preparing to be on his way.

"Aw, poor little Potter is offended. Maybe he should cry to mummy? Oh, that's right, you're an orphan. You see, having a mum and dad of my own, I forget that no one loves you."

Harry froze. His vision went red for half a second. He may have been seeing spots. He slowly turned and faced Malfoy, who was now suddenly pale, as though realizing he went too far. But he kept his face a cold, holier than though mask. He took three steps so that he was up in Malfoy's face. The students walking by stopped to watch what was happening.

"You want a fight, Malfoy? You have one. Room of requirement. Now. Wait a minute before you follow me so the professors don't catch on. Meet me in the room, unless you're as much of a coward as I think you are." Harry growled. Then he turned in a swish of robes and stormed off. He didn't take the time to wonder if he'd made a mistake in wanting to fight Malfoy, but he'd asked for it, and now Harry was in the mood for a good fight. In fact, he wanted to punch Malfoy's pointy nose until it was flat like Goyle's. He bet Malfoy wouldn't meet him, though. He was too much of a coward. But he hoped he would.

Malfoy stood there for a few seconds, his expression not changing. Despite what Harry thought, Malfoy _would _show up because he was in as dark a mood as Harry was. He was in a mood for a good fight. Plus, he partially blamed Potter for his misfortune. Well, he was in no way involved but Potter was a complete twat so he told himself it _was_ his fault. Potter ruined everything just by existing. He shook his head and put his nose in the air. Now he had a new destination. He made his way to the room of requirement, worried for a moment that he wouldn't find it. But, sure enough, he saw a door appear where there had been just a wall before. He gritted his teeth, and turned the door-knob, entering the room. He locked the door behind him and looked curiously at his surroundings. He didn't see Potter, and the room was filled with desks and chairs. But why would Potter think they needed-?

Potter sprang at him, shoving him against a desk and sending it toppling forward. Fuck. That's why there were chairs and tables. So the stupid fuck Potter could make the fight more dramatic. Malfoy grunted as his side made contact with the hard wood of the desk but he quickly righted himself, making a show of dusting off his shirt. He sneered at Potter, who was currently breathing hard and glaring at him, his hands balled up into fists.

"Is that the best you can do, Potter? Shove me against a desk? Maybe if you'd had a father he would have taught you how to fight. Oh wait, no, he was a loser just like-"

He didn't finish, because Potter punched him in the jaw, sending him staggering backwards. That fucking _hurt. _

"Come on, Malfoy! Your father can't buy you out of this! Are you just going to stand there, you fucking ferret faced git?" Harry yelled.

Malfoy tasted blood and he snarled, running at Harry and tackling him, forcing him against the wall and punching him in the stomach. Harry's breath left him in an "oof". He seemed to recover pretty quickly, and his eyes flashed up to his. The anger he saw there made him take a step backwards. He let out some sort of Potter battle cry and he launched himself at him and they both crashed into a desk, sending it to the floor and breaking it. Harry straddled Malfoy and punched him in the face. Malfoy managed to turn so the punch landed on his cheek rather than his nose, which he would hate to have broken. Malfoy shoved Harry in the chest, knocking him off his lap and onto the floor. When Potter was on his back Malfoy scrambled to his feet and kicked him hard in the ribs. Harry grunted in pain, trying to roll away from the next kick but Malfoy got him again, kicking him even harder. Harry managed to catch his foot though and yanked him to the ground. Malfoy's head hit with an audible thunk and it fucking HURT. Harry clambered over to him and tried to pin him down again. Malfoy struggled, trying to wiggle out from under him. All he really managed to do was roll over, clawing at the floor to aid his attempts. Harry grabbed his shirt, trying to hold him in place. When Malfoy gave an extra hard jerk, he heard a loud rip and froze.

Then he growled.

"YOU TORE MY FUCKING SHIRT, POTTER!" He yelled, pushing up off his hands and knocking Harry backwards with surprising force. Then he faced him and kicked him in the chest, making him crash into a chair. Malfoy stood up, his tattered shirt falling off him and his head throbbing painfully. He felt dizzy and he swayed. The moment of hesitation was enough time for Harry to stand up again and charge at Malfoy, knocking him into the wall. His forearm was under Malfoy's chin and he had him trapped. They were both panting and glaring at each other. Malfoy was shirtless, and Potter's robes were pressing against his bare skin. He'd have to scrub hard later to get the smell of filthy Gryffindor off him.

"You're a fucking slimy snake, Malfoy." Harry growled at him.

"Ooh, clever insult, Potter, comparing a Slytherin to a snake." Malfoy said snidely, trying to get out of Potter's hold. Potter pressed him further into the wall, snarling.

"Shut the fuck up, Malfoy. For once in your life, shut the fuck up." He said. They were still panting, neither knowing what to do next. Malfoy reckoned if he gave a really good shove he could escape. Potter's breath was hitting his face and he could feel every inhale and exhale on his own body. His heart was beating really quickly, and adrenaline was racing through his veins. And potter's face was really close. His nose was almost touching his. He suddenly got an idea of how he could escape. Later on, he would remember this decision and think he was crazy. He wouldn't understand how on earth he got the idea, or how he'd been bonkers enough to actually go through with it. In any case, he would tell himself he was just desperate to escape Potter's hold to win the fight.

Whatever his reasoning was, it happened. Malfoy leaned forward and quickly and roughly forced his mouth on Potter's. He'd intended for it to maybe hurt a little. What he didn't expect was for Potter's lips to be so _soft._ He also didn't expect the sudden rush of lust the contact created. But it was too crazy to feel lust, because he wasn't gay and…well…it was fucking _Potter. _Sworn enemy, remember?

Potter seemed to think this act was as crazy as Malfoy did, because he instantly let go and stumbled back, hand clapped over his mouth. They stared at each other for a moment, Potter shocked and Malfoy…horrified at what he'd done, despite the obvious success of his intentions. Potter _had _let go. What made Malfoy so horrified was that, for a moment, he'd felt disappointed. He also noticed that his jeans had gotten considerably tighter in the crotchular region. He told himself it was the excitement of the fight. The adrenaline. Not potter. _Definitely not Potter_.

"What…what the fuck are you playing at, Malfoy?" Harry bellowed. Malfoy composed his features to an arrogant smirk.

"Got you to let go of me, didn't it, Potter?" He said, looking down at his nails and fiddling with them disinterestedly. "That was easier than I-"

Malfoy felt the air rush out of his lungs as he was forced against the wall again, pinned like before. He gasped, trying to move away. Potter was pressed up right against him. He'd undoubtedly feel the problem he was having. The problem which was currently straining against his jeans.

Potter's eyebrows lifted and his eyes widened and he glanced between their bodies so tightly pressed against each other. Then, he looked back up at Malfoy, his glare intensified. Malfoy opened his mouth to give some excuse or snide remark when, suddenly and unexpectedly, Potter's lips were pressed against his. Harry still had his forearm under his chin, but his other arm banged against the wall beside Malfoy's face, punching a hole in it. Malfoy made a surprised sound in his throat, his lips parting. Harry took the opportunity to shove his tongue roughly into his mouth. Malfoy realized something. Whatever was happening right now, Potter was winning. He didn't know how exactly the fight had turned into this, he still hated Potter but…he was turned on as fuck. And he wouldn't let him win. No Malfoy would lose. Especially not to a Potter.

He thrust his tongue against Potter's, sliding it sensually into his mouth and pressing his straining erection against him. He didn't expect what he felt next; which was Potter's erection grinding against his. Potter was hard. Malfoy moaned at the delicious friction and then cursed in his head. Fuck. Potter just gained another point. He had heard Potter take in a sharp breath at the move, but made no other indication that he felt the sudden pleasure Malfoy had. So Malfoy did it again, bucking into Potter's erection harder, rolling his hips and sucking on his lower hip. That got a reaction. Potter grunted, and his forearm dropped down, both his hands roughly seizing Malfoy's bare hips.

What the fuck was HAPPENING?

The thought disappeared when Potter's hands grabbed his hips harder and forced them flush against his, causing their straining erections to rub deliciously against each other. Malfoy moaned again, and considered his next move.

Easy.

Time for some payback.

He pushed Potter's robes off his shoulders and Harry, sensing what to do next, let his hands drop so the robes could fall in a black puddle to the floor. Then, before Harry could do anything, Malfoy seized his shirt and tore it clean in half. Ha. Now your shirt is ripped too, Potter. Harry looked at his ruined shirt, surprised. Then he looked back at Malfoy, his eyes so dark they were forest green. He put his palm on Malfoy's chest and forced him back against the wall. Draco's breath left him in an "oof". Harry stepped forward and their bare chests touched. Harry forced a leg between Draco's so that his thigh was pressing against his erection.

"You ruined my shirt." Harry said, glaring at Malfoy, but breathing hard and eyes not only dark with anger…there was definitely lust.

"You ruined mine." Malfoy said, trying to sound snide but his voice trembled.

"Shut the fuck up, Malfoy." Harry said.

"Fuck off, you specky-". Before he could go on, Potter growled and crashed his lips against his again, grabbing a handful of Malfoy's blonde locks and tugging almost painfully.

Malfoy groaned loudly. He would have been embarrassed at how vocal he was being, but he was distracted by how turned on he was, and the fact that one of Potter's hands was now on his ass.

It seemed like Potter was trying to take the lead. Well. Fuck that. As previously mentioned, Malfoy's always win. Harry was going to grab his ass? Fine. Time to take the next step.

Draco suddenly felt nervous. One of his hands was on Harry's jaw, and the other was in his hair. He chose to move the hand that was on Harry's face, because it was on the right side, it just needed to travel….downwards. Draco took a shaky breath and moved his hand down to Harry's neck….then to his chest. He had to move back slightly so there was space between their bodies so his hand could continue to its destination. Malfoy just kept moving so he wouldn't have time to talk himself out of it. He felt Potter's bare skin against his hand as it moved from his chest to his stomach. Potter seemed to notice what was on his mind because his lips froze on Draco's ,he was breathing harder, and he'd moved back ever so slightly so Draco could have enough room to…do what he was going to next. Malfoy took a deep breath and, without pausing, let his palm slide down to Harry's jean encased dick. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Draco Malfoy was now cupping Harry Potter's hard dick. Harry moaned against his mouth, and Draco felt an enormous excitement that such a simple touch could make him make sounds like that. Harry let his hips move forward, pressing his erection harder into Draco's hand.

Draco breathed shakily, a hot, strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. His heart was beating _so _fast and he was so fucking turned on. He didn't know why! It was too much…it was all too much. He had his hand on Harry Potters' very hard dick, his own erection threatening to go off in his pants like he was 13 all over again. And why? At the mere thought of tossing potter off, which it looked like he was very close to doing.

His thoughts were cut short when Potter suddenly buried his face in Malfoy's neck, placing a desperate, sloppy, open mouthed kiss there. Malfoy tipped his head back, groaning and letting the hand cupping Harry's prick press harder, his fingers better encircling his length and experimentally rubbing his hand up and down over it. The sound Potter made against his neck was…intense. It was a low groan that vibrated on his skin and Draco felt his mounting excitement take over completely. All thoughts and doubts were gone. Competition be damned.

He fumbled with the button of Harry's jeans, his hands shaking. Harry was sucking and biting on his neck, grabbing his arse and moving his hips absentmindedly. Now Draco's trembling fingers were tugging on a zipper and slipping under elastic and…touching hard, smooth skin. The angle was awkward with their bodies so close together, but Draco curled his fingers around Harry's dick, pulling it out of his pants. Harry groaned, moving his head back to look down at what Malfoy was doing. Harry had no idea what was happening. The fact was, it was impossible. All he knew was it felt so _good _and Malfoy's hand was _warm _and it was starting to move and _blimey _had he done this to another bloke before? Because his hand was moving up and down, the pressure so fucking delicious. He didn't know how it had happened...how it had all started.

Actually, no.

It had been Malfoy.

When he'd kissed him that first time, rough and quick.

Harry was confused. But most of all, he was shocked by how good it had felt. How different it had been from any kissing he had done before. And he had definitely not expected the sudden bolt of lust sent straight down to his groin. Kissing a bloke was so different. They could press right up against each other, no breasts in the way. His hand on a strong jaw, in short hair…their hip bones touching, their hard dicks pressing together. It also had that sense of being dirtier…forbidden or something. Yeah. It felt completely different. It scared the shit out of Harry that he liked the difference. Wasn't he straight? And didn't he hate Malfoy? Then why was he feeling so turned on? The most turned on he had ever been in his life. His body was on fire; buzzing with this weird nervous electricity. The _thoughts _he was having were definitely….bent. He wanted to do things to Malfoy….he wanted Malfoy to do things to him…why in god's name Malfoy? But holy fuck Draco's hand was still moving on him, and he was biting down on his lip, watching as he tossed Harry off. There was a burning lust in his eyes as he watched himself. Malfoy didn't know what he was doing, he was acting on impulse. His eyes flicked up to Harry's, and what he saw was so….incredibly…raw and….hot. His mouth was open, and his eyes were dark with a look that screamed sex. He was watching what Draco was doing. It filled Draco with a confidence and the sudden desire to….to….before he knew it, he felt himself sliding onto his knees.

Neither of them would have believed it if someone had told them that today Draco would be on his knees with Harry's cock in his hands, about to suck him off. They wouldn't have believed it if someone told them that, despite how much they hated each other, they would want each other so much they were both about to explode. They probably would have hexed the person into oblivion. But still, there they were; both not thinking, or surely it would never have happened. If they spared any thought on it, if they hadn't let instinct and want kick in, then they wouldn't be where they were now.

"Wha…what're-?" Harry stuttered, not understanding what he was seeing.

"Shut up for once in your life, Potter." Draco said, but the harshness of the words cut off by the breathlessness of his voice. He leaned forward, not daring to ponder what he was about to do, and let his lips, usually fixed into a snide smirk, part over Harry's cock.

"Fuck…" Potter groaned, his hand immediately taking purchase in Draco's soft hair. His fingers tangled in the blonde mess. It felt so good….his mouth was so wet and hot. First only the tip slid into his pink mouth, and then Draco slid lower, taking more of him and letting his tongue taste his length. He hollowed his cheeks; the pressure Harry felt was incredible. He'd never felt…had never imagined.

The sounds he was making were most definitely embarrassing, but he didn't have the time to be embarrassed. Draco was taking him in deeper and deeper each time, the suction…the wetness of his mouth…the way he looked…it was so dirty…so visceral.

Harry moaned, cursing. His hands tightened in Draco's hair, and he found himself mindlessly thrusting his hips forward into that hot mouth.

Malfoy was unbelievably turned on by the sounds he was hearing…the moaning…the curses…the hoarse groans….he chanced a glance upwards. Harry's mouth was open like before, but his eyes were squinted shut, his cheeks flushed. Malfoy felt tingles shoot up his spine, and his dick twitched in his pants. Being on his knees, sucking Potter off…making him lose control like that…he felt more warmth pool in his groin and he felt the telltale clenching in his stomach. Fuck. He was so close to cumming just from giving Potter a blow job. He could tell Potter was close to…his hips were jerking forward and his hand was tugging on Malfoys' hair.

"Fuck…Malfoy...ugh…I'm going to….Fu-uuuck!" Harry cried out hoarsely, his hips jutting forward and cumming in Draco's mouth as Draco swallowed around him. The sound and the fucking _feel _of Harry cumming because of what he was doing made Draco pull back, groaning unbelievably loudly and cumming spectacularly in his pants.

They both stayed where they were for a moment, breathing hard. Draco looked down at himself. He was shirtless, panting, and he had a wet patch in his jeans. He felt his stomach go cold and he felt sick. He looked up at Potter, who was breathing even harder, his cheeks flushed and sweat making his hair cling to his forehead. His dick was still out, and he too was shirtless.

Their eyes met.

Reality set in.

Shit, Draco though. Shit fucking SHIT. He'd just…sucked off…fucking HELL.

He scrambled up, backing away from Potter, his back hitting the wall. Harry watched him, his cheeks darkening as he realized how he must look, and he hurriedly tucked himself back into his jeans. He'd just…cum in Malfoy's mouth and by the look of Malfoy and the sound he had made, Malfoy had cum too.

What the hell had…what? They avoided eye contact, both unable to believe what had happened. Harry raised a hand to his hair, ruffling it. One of them had to say something. The Gryffindor bravery set in, and Harry took in a deep breath.

"Listen, Malfoy…er…Draco…I don't know what-"

"Shut the fuck up, Potter." Malfoy spat, looking at him, his expression livid. But Harry thought he could also see fear in his grey eyes. "This-", he let his hand go back and forth in the space between them "-never happened, do you understand me? It didn't fucking HAPPEN."

Harry was about to say he wished it hadn't, when suddenly, he realized that wasn't true. It had been…confusing as shit. It had been out of the blue, and it didn't make any sense but…he didn't wish it hadn't happened. It had been…bloody amazing. He didn't want to think about it, because if he did, he'd realize that he might very well be bent. He raised his hand, cupping his neck and shoving his hand in one of his jean pockets. No. He didn't want to think about it. It would drive him mad. He didn't want to think about the fact that now; the memory of Draco sucking him off would be what he thought of when he was having a wank. It was bonkers. He…he hated him. He was his bloody enemy, for Christ sake. He was..._Malfoy._ He took another deep breath.

"It…it did happen though. You…uh…were there. On your…uh…with my…and…" Harry stuttered, not able to form a coherent sentence. He didn't know what he was trying to say. They _should _forget it had happened, and he didn't want to think about any of it, right? So why was he trying to say any of this to Malfoy? What in the name of Merlin was _happening _to him? Malfoy brought out his wand suddenly, pointing it at Harry.

"NOTHING FUCKING HAPPENED!" He yelled.

"Are you going to hex me, Malfoy?" Harry asked, feeling strangely amused. He took a step towards Draco. Draco took a step back, a scared look crossing his features.

"Yes! I'm going to fucking curse you!" He said. Harry took another step forward, backing Malfoy into the wall again, like they had been before. "What the fuck are you-?" Harry didn't know what he was playing at, all he knew was he was confused and, once again, he acted without thinking. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Malfoys, the contact bringing back that intense lust he had felt before. Malfoy made a muffled sound against him as Harry grabbed his waist, pulling him against him as he slanted his mouth over Draco's. Draco relaxed for a moment, his lips softening and his tongue darting out to slide along Harry's lip, his arms going around Harry's waist. And then the moment ended. Malfoy seemed to realize what was happening and he tensed, pushing Harry away and rearing his fist back, sending a punch to Harry's jaw. Harry stumbled back, his hand rubbing his bruising jaw and his mouth open in shock.

"GET THE FUCK OFF ME, POTTER! AND TALK ABOUT THIS TO ANYONE AND I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!" He screamed, turning, whipping the door open, and running out of the room.

Harry stared at the open door, still rubbing his jaw. He wasn't able to take all that had happened in, and he doubted he would be able to understand any of it any time soon. But of one thing he was sure. He was bent, and he wanted Draco Malfoy.

**_*A.N: AHHH! I'm back bitches! And it feels fucking GOOD. So...man on man. It's so fun to write...and it's sexy as hell! I giggled loads writing this. So...the question that comes to mind is "what next?" What is Harry going to do about these confusing feelings? And what on earth is going through Malfoy's mind? Was this just a one time thing? Read and review, my darling slashies. MWA. Frankietown loves all of you because your bodies are hot._**


	2. The Fucking Room of Requirement

**_*A.N: Hello, you Potter perves! You guys gave me some seriously awesome reviews. I was really psyched. One of you left a really long review that honestly was the best one I've ever gotten. You know who you are. I'm glad I helped you get back into fanfic. You are flipping awesome. As for my Beta, I love you honey. Way too much. And I miss you loads. You are the shit. And yes. This chapter made me giggle and blush like a virgin in a sex shop. So...read and review because reviews give Draco Malfoy boners. And we like it when that happens, don't we?_**

**The Fucking Room of Requirment **

Stop staring at his mouth. Stop staring at his mouth. Stop staring at his mouth. Harry was still staring at his mouth, despite all his mental chanting. After Malfoy had run off shirtless down the hall, Harry had put his robes back on, looking at his hopeless shirt. It was destroyed. Malfoy's shirt was in tatters on the floor, in the same state. But Harry's had been ripped under...different circumstances. He'd gone back to his dorm room in a daze, not quite understanding what had happened. Ron had asked him if he was alright, but he'd just mumbled a nonsensical answer and sat down on a sofa, going through his books and pretending to be studying. Ron hadn't asked about the bruise on Harry's jaw, sensing Harry didn't want to talk about it. He had a free period next and then it'd be time to eat in the great hall…where Malfoy might be.

You know. The Malfoy which had been on his knees sucking Harry off in the Room of Requirement.

And there Harry found himself. In the great hall with uneaten food on his plate as he stared at the mouth which had made him lose control; that pink, full mouth, which was currently moving as he talked to that Pansy girl. Draco looked especially pale. And his eyes were downcast. He seemed to have no visible emotions...but Harry knew that if he was half as confused as he was, he'd be going insane. And Harry was bloody confused. He knew he was bent. There was no doubt of that. He wondered how he hasn't known it before. No, he must've but just not...seen it. And he knew he wanted Malfoy, for some sick reason. He wanted him that very moment, as he stared at his mouth, trying his best to keep from getting hard. He was failing. He couldn't believe he was getting an erection just _looking_at him: another bloke.

"Mate? Are you okay?" Ron asked again, following Harry's gaze. "Has that pointy git done something? Did he give you that bruise?" Ron said, spitting out the last bit. Harry was glad 'Mione was in the library, because he didn't want her gift of perception aimed at him.

"Er...no. No. I tripped. Staircase moved. I'm just thinking I 'spose," Harry said, dragging his eyes off Malfoy. The instant he did he itched to look again. This was crazy. And it didn't make any bloody sense, for fuck sake! But what was he going to do? He wanted to talk to Malfoy or something...no. If he was being honest, he wanted to push him against a wall and‒ Harry felt his dick twitch in his pants and felt his face heat. He had to get out of there.

"I...think I should...er...go. Get my books for Defense...er...yeah. I'll see you later mate." Harry said quickly.

"But Harry you haven't eaten and-" Harry didn't hear the rest, because he was up and out of his seat and getting out of the great hall, his heart beating quickly.

Draco saw this out of the corner of his eye, feeling instantly relieved. Potter had been staring at him. And it took all his self-control not to look up. Fucking _Potter._This was all Potter's fault. Draco was fuming. He'd...he'd sucked a bloke off. And he'd liked it. He came in his fucking trousers from the experience alone. And it was all Potter's fault. He _had_ to fucking kiss Malfoy back. He'd probably planned it. Yeah. He planned it so that he could make Malfoy feel queer. He did it so that he'd be confused as hell and wondering about his sexuality. Which suddenly was very unclear. Malfoy groaned, putting his face in his hands.

"You alright, Draco?" Pansy asked, putting her hand on his thigh. Malfoy flinched away.

"Get off, Panse. And yes, I'm fine. Of course I'm fine. I'm just tired." Draco said, moving his leg away from Pansy's hand.

"Oh...Okay Draco. But you know, if you're not feeling good...I could help you out with-"

Malfoy grimaced into his hand. He couldn't be in here. He needed to go up to his dorm and be alone. He couldn't be around people right now. He couldn't be around himself. He wished he'd never gone into that room with Potter. _Fucking Potter_.

"I'm going to go, Pansy. Eh...I'll see you later." He said, standing up and leaving before she could go on about it. She really got on his nerves sometimes. She was just so...pathetic.

He exited the great hall, walking as quickly as he could. He stopped, suddenly, spotting jet black hair: Potter. He was leaning against a wall near a stair case, one hand in his hair and his eyes squinted shut. Malfoy noted the bruise on his jaw with instant satisfaction. Then he remembered why he'd delivered the punch. Malfoy's cheeks flushed, memories of what had happened over an hour ago flooding his mind. He felt instant arousal too, which only made him angrier at Potter. He backed away slowly, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He could escape. As if he could read his fucking mind, Harry's eyes opened, and flicked over to Malfoy, who was frozen in horror.

Harry straightened, his eyes wide and his hand dropping to his side. He cleared his throat.

"Malfoy? What're-?"

Malfoy, not caring if it made him seem cowardly, bolted. Anything to get away from Potter.

What he didn't expect was for the idiot to _follow him_.

"Wait! Malfoy stop fucking running, you prat!"

"Sod off, Potter!" Malfoy called back from behind his shoulder. Shit. Potter was gaining on him

"Hold up you twat!" Harry said, now right behind him. Malfoy suddenly stopped, swivelling around. Harry crashed into him. Malfoy stumbled backwards, pushing Harry away.

"Watch it, Potter." Malfoy said, balling his hands into fists.

"You're the one who stopped suddenly." Harry spat at him.

"You're the one who told me to!" Malfoy yelled, throwing his hands in the air. Harry's face was incredulous, and then he cracked a small smile. Malfoy felt a fluttering in his stomach and he scowled.

"What the fuck do you want, Potter?" Malfoy asked scornfully, sneering at him.

Harry looked at his feet. Shit. What _did_he want? He wanted Malfoy. Obviously. He'd established that. Don't ask why, it didn't make any sense to him either. He just...wanted him. Thinking about it too much made his head hurt. Thinking about wanting to fuck one's enemy in the arse was not something Harry was expecting to have to deal with. _What's__wrong__with me?_ Harry thought, grabbing a fist full of his hair and trying to sweep it out of his face. All of a sudden he was gay. All of a sudden, he wanted Malfoy to do things to him...wanted to do things to Malfoy. It wasn't possible, right? It sure as fuck shouldn't be. It shouldn't be happening. People aren't enemies for years, and then suddenly find themselves snogging. But there it was‒ that fucking _lust _that was eating at him. He knew Malfoy felt it too. Now if he would only...

Harry looked up. He now knew his objective. Get Malfoy to admit he wanted him. Knowing Malfoy, it'd be fucking impossible.

"Well? Are you just going to stand there like the stupid-?" Malfoy started.

"You." Harry said, the word causing a nervous feeling to settle in his stomach.

"What are you _on_about?"

"You asked me what I want." Harry said, feeling his cheeks go red. He tried to keep his expression blank. He couldn't believe what he was saying. He sounded bloody absurd. But that's what being a Gryffindor comes with, right? Being brave?

Malfoy's cheeks reddened and he opened and closed his mouth, looking utterly stricken.

"What...what the fuck...are you...what? I'm not bloody QUEER Potter! And, if I haven't made it obvious in the past, I FUCKING HATE YOU! Go be bent with someone else!" Malfoy whispered harshly, pulling his wand out of his robes.

Harry felt his stomach drop, but he didn't show it. He raised an eyebrow. "Not queer, eh? So...my dick in your mouth was-?"

"Shut the fuck UP! That never-!"

"It bloody well did happen!" Harry said, taking a step towards him. Malfoy looked around himself nervously, raising his want higher, his expression turning livid.

"SHUT UP POTTER!" Malfoy yelled, taking a step backward. "You have no idea what you're talking about!"

"No? So what, I hallucinated the whole thing? Listen, for some fucked up reason, I'm attracted to you. Even though you're a total idiot. And a complete arse. How about YOU shut the fuck up, Malfoy, and just stop being such a prick?"

Malfoy glared at him.

"Fuck. You." He said, turning away and attempting to walk off. Harry grabbed him by the arm, pulling him back.

"Are you daft? Leave me the fuck-!"

"Shut up." Harry said, walking towards the staircase, pulling Malfoy with him.

"Where are you taking me?" Malfoy yelled, trying to yank his arm out of Harry's grip. He couldn't use his wand, because it was held in the arm Harry was currently tugging on. "Let me go you...you...poof! Let me GO!"

Malfoy fought desperately against Harry's grip. He looked around, stumbling on the steps. He recognized where Potter was taking them. The fucking room of requirement. He felt a bolt of fear. Being alone in a room with Potter proved pretty fucking catastrophic before. What was Potter going to do? Force himself on him? Malfoy had a vision of himself bent over a desk; Potter behind him, gripping his hips...Malfoy felt a bolt of lust sent straight down to his groin, making him even more enraged. What the fuck did Potter think he was _doing?_

"No! I'm not going to go into that room so you can try your hand at...at...rape!" Malfoy said, struggling harder. He saw Harry roll his eyes.

"I'm not going to _rape_you, you idiot. I'm going to talk to you."

Malfoy made an outraged sound in his throat. "I don't _want_to talk to you. Let me the fuck GO!"

Harry didn't. He dragged Malfoy, kicking and screaming, to the room of requirement, walked past it three times, waited until it appeared, and shoved him inside. Did Malfoy honestly think he'd rape him? What did he think he was? A fucking Slytherin? Malfoy had backed away from Harry, his wand held high.

"Oh, put that down. I just want to talk."

"Yes. And I just want to hex your head off your body. We can agree to disagree."

Harry didn't know what to do next. He hadn't really thought it out. He _had_wanted to talk to Malfoy...and then kiss him. Kiss him until he admitted he wanted Harry. If he did that, Harry would be satisfied. He wouldn't be in this uneasy, unsure place he was in now.

"Put down your wand down, Malfoy."

"Let me out of the room, Potter." Malfoy snarled.

Fuck. Harry couldn't disarm him, because the movement of retrieving his wand from his pocket would be enough time for Malfoy to hex him. So he slowly walked towards him.

"Malfoy, I get that you don't want to think about what happened earlier-"

Malfoy's wand was shaking in his grip. "Shut up."

"But I've been thinking about it, and I know you must've been too-"

"Shut up."

"-because...it was bloody fantastic-"

"SHUT UP!" Malfoy yelled, his eyes screwing together. Harry was close to him now. Just a few more steps and he'd knock the wand out of his hands.

"There's no way I can be the only one thinking about it...we were both there. It wasn't one sided. When we were kissing-"

"Please. Stop talking about it." Malfoy whispered, his eyes still shut tightly, and his hand shaking. Harry was standing right in front of him now. So close. Harry reached forward carefully, putting his fingers around Malfoy's. Malfoy's grip tightened on the wand, his head dropping down. His whole body was shaking. Harry felt his heart speed, his throat constricting. He put his free hand on Draco's hips, and pulled him closer, so he was against him. Harry felt something on his thigh. Draco was already hard. Harry almost groaned out loud, finding himself becoming aroused instantly. Draco sucked in a harsh breath, but didn't lift his head. Harry moved his hand to his chin, tilting it upwards. Draco refused to open his eyes.

"Tell me I'm imagining it." Harry said. "Tell me you don't want me."

Draco's eyes opened slowly, but he was looking down. "I...I don't-"

Harry crashed his lips against Draco's, the feel of his soft mouth meeting his in an instant relief. Draco brought his hand between them, trying to push him away. Harry let his tongue run along Draco's lower lip, sucking on it gently while his arm went to Draco's hip, his hand splayed on his lower back and drawing him closer. Draco's wand dropped to the floor. Both boys forgot about its existence.

Draco's hands went around Harry's neck, and Harry moaned with triumph. Harry let both his hands encircle Draco's waist, and Draco let his lips part, his tongue thrusting into Harry's mouth and roughly yanking on his hair. Harry groaned, moving forward, causing Malfoy to stumble back into a wall. The kiss was violent, Malfoy biting down on Harry's lower lip and moving his face so their lips crashed together at a new angle. Malfoy forgot he was meant to hate Harry. He forgot he was meant to be angry at him now. All he could focus on was that intoxicating lust, and Harry's erection pressing against his, the friction almost unbearably amazing. And he tasted so good...and the sounds he made were so arousing. Malfoy knew he was making sounds too, groaning, moaning, and panting loudly whenever his mouth was free. What was wrong with him that Harry made him like this? Their lips met and parted feverishly, and Draco moved his hands to Harry's hips, pulling him impossibly closer. Harry's hands were now yanking off Malfoy's robes, and going under his shirt, his hands sliding up his flat stomach. Harry pulled back, his eyes dark and hooded as he looked at Malfoy.  
>"Take it off." He said. The way he said it, his voice husky and commanding made Malfoy's stomach clench. He quickly pulled his shirt over his head and threw it Merlin knows where. As soon as his hands were free of the task, he pulled Harry's face back to his, their lips meeting with almost bruising force. Harry made a low sound in his throat as Malfoy's trembling hands worked on ridding him of his robes. He tugged on the hem of Harry's shirt, and Harry leaned back, allowing Malfoy to take his shirt off. Harry pressed his bare skin against Draco's, the electricity crackling between them so intense it was bound to incinerate them both.<p>

Harry slid his leg between Malfoys, letting his thigh rub up hard against his erection. Malfoy whimpered against his mouth, his hips bucking forward in an invitation for more. One of his hands flew to Harry's belt, tugging at it. This was getting out of control, and fast. Harry grabbed Malfoy's wrist, keeping him from undoing his belt. Malfoy pulled his face away from Harry's.

"What're _uuuugh_-" Malfoy's head fell back hard against the wall as Harry slipped is hand down Draco's jeans, roughly palming his erection over the cloth of his boxers. The sight of Draco's neck...pale and exposed like that made Harry groan, leaning forward and placing an open mouthed kiss on his Adam's apple. Malfoy was moving his hips forward, thrusting himself into Harry's hand. He didn't care if he looked completely pathetic or shameless, because Harry was now undoing his zipper and slipping his warm hand into his underwear. Malfoy panted and made low sounds in his throat as Harry let his fingers encircle his dick, moving his hand up and down over him. He was trailing wet kisses on his neck and collar bone, sucking on his skin and biting enough so it hurt just a little. Malfoys' hands were all over Harry, going from his back, to his shoulders, into his hair, down again, over his ass. Harry's hand was moving faster, and it slipped up and over the sensitive tip, then back to the quick pumping. Malfoy wanted more. He felt himself spinning out of control.

"Ugh...Potter..." Malfoy moaned.

"Harry." Potter said against his throat, his voice deep and shaking slightly.

"Harry...ugh..."

Harry raised his head from Malfoy's neck and his eyes seared into his. Malfoy immediately leaned forward, parting his lips. Harry leaned away from him, using his free hand to push Malfoy's shoulders back against the wall. Malfoy panted in frustration, noticing how Harry's hand had stopped moving on him.

"Pot-Harry. Please-" He panted, feeling his face flush at how he was now begging him.

"Tell me you want me, Malfoy," said Harry, his voice husky.

Malfoy didn't know what his aim was. It was very obvious he wanted him. But still, he said it.

"I want you," whispered Draco, his eyes still on Harry's. Harry groaned, crashing his lips into Draco's. Their tongues met- the feel of it so incredible Draco felt like he never wanted to stop. The hand on Draco's dick was moving again, and Draco was now moaning without pause. Harry was planting kisses on his jaw, trailing down to his neck again. He seemed obsessed with the soft, tasty skin there.

"Ugh...H-harry. I want-" Draco started, and then stopped, a loud groan breaking his sentence.

"Yeah?" Harry panted against his neck.

"I-I want-" Draco arched his back, his fingers digging into Harry's hip. Harry raised his head, putting his forehead against Draco's.

"What do you want, Draco?" He asked breathily. The intensity of Harry's gaze ripped the words from Draco's mouth.

"Fuck me." He said, grabbing Harry by the hair and forcing their mouths together, his other hand busy trying to undo his belt. Harry's hand stilled, and his mouth was unmoving. He stopped Draco's hand again and he pulled back. Draco's eyebrows drew together.

"What?" He asked, trying to reach for Harry's belt again. Harry stopped him, his expression wary.

"Malfoy...do you reckon that's a good idea? You were ready to hex me not too long ago. Maybe we should, take it a bit...a bit slower?" Harry said, looking carefully at Draco for a reaction. Draco dropped his hand, his face flushing.

"Take what slower?" Draco asked his expression blank and his voice cold.

Harry seemed at a loss for words. "I dunno...this. You and me. I-I dunno what it is exactly, but-"

"You and me? Potter, there IS no you and me!" Draco roared, embarrassed at what he had asked for. He felt completely humiliated by being rejected, and was extremely confused and angry by what he was feeling. He attempted to bolt past Harry, but Harry grabbed him by the waist, pulling his back against them.

"It's a bit late for that, Draco. Why are you running away?" Harry demanded.

"None of your damn business-mmmph!" Malfoy protested as Harry mashed their lips together again.

Harry pulled back, his expression angry. "I_want_ you, Draco. You make me feel...weird. I dunno. But I fucking WANT you. I might _like_ you, you prat. And if I DO like you, then I don't just want to fuck you in the room of requirement. And not when you're trying as hard as you can to escape whenever I'm not distracting you-"

"You do NOT distract-"

Harry pressed their lips together again and Malfoy fought against him, knowing that soon enough he'd be too turned on to stop it. But Harry persisted, twining his fingers in Malfoy's blonde locks and pulling him close so their hip bones met. Malfoy's lips immediately parted and he mentally cursed himself for being so easy. He hated himself for it. He pressed closer, his arm going around Harry's neck. Harry ended the kiss.

"See. I _do_distract-"

"Shut up." Malfoy said, pulling Harry's face back to his. Harry made a surprised sound, but immediately responded, his tongue sliding hotly into Draco's mouth. Draco didn't care about Harry's stupid Gryffindor 'right and wrong' bull-shit. And he didn't want to bloody consider the fact that they'd be a 'you and me'. He didn't _want_Potter to like him. And he sure as hell didn't like Potter. Maybe all he needed was for Potter to fuck him. Yeah. And then all these confusing feelings would go away. He must just be temporarily insane...but after a one off he'd stop feeling this. Yeah. If Potter fucked him, he'd stop wanting to be fucked by him. He was just curious. And after he satisfied his curiosity, he could go back to his normal life.

He trailed his hand down Harry's stomach, and latched it onto his belt once again. Harry tensed. "Draco-" He warned.

"I want you." Draco whispered against Harry's frozen lips. He pressed his palm against Harry's hard dick, and Harry moaned. "I want you, Harry." He said again, working on the belt. He knew saying Potter's first name would work. And he seemed to like it when Draco said he wanted him, so he knew he would win.

"Draco, I don't know if-" Harry started, his voice trembling.

"Please, Harry. Stop talking." Draco said, finally getting his belt undone and pulling the zipper down. Harry moaned in defeat, and he kissed Draco. Hard. Harry let his pants drop to the ground, and he pulled Draco's down too, yanking his underwear off and suddenly their naked bodies were flush against each other, the feeling unnervingly addictive. Draco pushed the thought away. He was _not_addicted to Potter.

Harry, however, was very sure he was addicted to Malfoy. The taste of him, the feel of him...it was almost too much. He wanted to have sex with Malfoy. How could he not? It had taken all his self-control not to fuck him the second their lips met that first time. But...it didn't feel right. Not when Malfoy was avoiding him, and clearly in denial. But then Draco had begged him, and Harry's resolve cracked. He wanted him so badly. Malfoy had unknowingly unleashed a beast.

Harry was pressing himself against Draco, his kisses rough and hot. His hands plundered any available surface of Malfoy, relishing the sounds Draco was making. It appeared that he was just as helpless to this as Harry was. Harry pulled back for an instant, his eyes skimming the room. There was only a desk. Harry growled, pulling Malfoy towards it and lifting him so he was sitting on the edge. Harry stood between his legs and immediately brought their lips together again.

Malfoy felt like he was drowning in the passion he was feeling. He hadn't expected it. Potter was rough, frantic, and he had completely taken control. It turned Draco on and frightened him slightly, but he'd never admit it. Draco slid his hand between them and grasped Harry's erection, tightening his fingers around it and pumping it in his fist, causing Harry to curse against Draco's mouth and bite his lip. He pushed Draco back, Draco's hand slipping off him as his back hit the wood of the desk. Draco panted, coming up on his elbows and gazing under his lashes at Harry. Harry couldn't believe how badly he wanted him; seeing him lying on the table, propped up on his elbows, his flat stomach flexed and his mouth red and plump. He couldn't believe how dark Draco's lashes were. They were black. Weren't they meant to be pale? The rest of the hair on him was. But still, those piercing grey eyes were rimmed with long, black lashes. Harry felt a strange tugging in his chest, and before it took over him, he put his hands down on the table on either side of Malfoy's head, and he bent down to capture his lips. Draco tasted so sweet. And he kissed him back so eagerly and fiercely it made Harry's heart beat furiously and a strange heat spread in his stomach.

He felt nervous, but the nervousness was...different. It was intoxicating. Usually, being nervous stopped you from doing something, or made you want to stop. These nerves made him desperately want to go on. He kissed down that gorgeous pale neck, down his lightly toned chest, over the ribs which were clearly visible whenever Draco breathed in, down his flat stomach, and over his jutting hip bones.

Draco sucked in a harsh breath when he realized what Harry was going to do; what Draco had done to him earlier that day. Harry let his hot breath roll over Draco's dick and he looked up at him. Draco's eyes were hooded as he watched, and his lips were parted. Draco's tongue darted out to moisten his lower lip and Harry felt his dick throb in response. He looked back down at Draco's swollen prick. He'd never done this before. Of course he hadn't. But he decided just to go for it, and hope he didn't screw up.

He licked his lips, then bent his head and opened his mouth over the tip of Draco's dick. Draco's hips shot up, a loud groan escaping his lips as his elbows gave way and his back hit the desk, arching. Harry's stomach tightened, Draco's reaction both spurring him on and arousing him beyond belief. He let one of his arms go across Draco's stomach and hips, holding him down, while his other hand was at the base of his cock. He let Draco's length slip further into his mouth, making sure he didn't go too far down too quickly. He didn't want to gag. He experimentally let his head bob up and down, taking Draco further in, then almost out of his mouth. Draco's head was thrashing back and forth, and the sound of his pants and loud moans filled the room. His hands shot down to Harry's hair, where he gripped it tightly between his fingers. Harry moaned, deciding to test himself further. He took Draco in until he hit the back of Harry's throat. Harry didn't gag, but he swallowed around Draco reflexively. Draco made a choking sound, then cursed loudly.

"H-harry. Stop. _Ughhhh._Stop. FUCK." Malfoy tugged on Harry's hair, causing Harry to raise his head up, Draco's dick slipping out of his mouth. Draco was breathing hard. "Fuck me, Harry." He said, arching his back in invitation. Harry's heartbeat sped, and he could feel the blood pounding in his veins.

"Are...are you sure?" Harry asked, his voice cracking.

Draco nodded quickly, wrapping his legs around Harry's hips and drawing him closer. Harry felt sweat bead on his forehead as he looked at the boy on the table in front of him. His mouth went dry. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. Did he just...put it in? Wouldn't it hurt? He knew the basics...but he was so new to this. He knew lubricant was something people used in sex but he didn't have any...what was he meant to do? He instantly felt stupid, and his nerves mounted.

"I...I don't know what-"

"Just _do_it!" Draco said, his eyes closed and his hips lifting off the table.

"But...won't it...hurt?" Harry asked, his voice filled with concern.

"I don't care. Just...fuck me already." Malfoy said, his voice taking on a strange desperation.

Harry bit his lip, concentrating as he spread Draco's legs wider, eyeing his ass. He felt his dick get impossibly harder knowing what he was about to do. He'd take it very slow, not wanting to hurt Malfoy. He wouldn't be able to stand it if he hurt him. Huh. How weird. He'd had no problem with hurting Draco in the past.

_But things were different now._

Harry took in a deep, shaky breath and let his trembling hand take his dick and he leaned forward slightly, pulling Draco's hips further off the desk. Both boys had suddenly stopped breathing as Harry's dick pressed against Draco's opening, exerting a gentle pressure. Harry watched as just the tip disappeared into Draco and the sudden tightness and warmth was so extreme, Harry let out a low curse.

Draco's eyes closed at the intrusion. It felt very...odd. It didn't hurt yet. But it felt uncomfortable. Harry was large...Draco was only slightly smaller. He knew that once Harry started going in deeper, it would really start to hurt. He felt Harry trembling, his grip tightening on Draco's hips. Harry pushed forward slightly, entering Draco deeper. The stretch caused Draco to wince, the burn more than slight discomfort now. Draco felt himself get light headed, and he realized he still wasn't breathing. He let out a breath, shaking.  
>"A-are you okay?" Harry asked, his voice breaking.<br>Draco nodded. "Keep going." He said.  
>Harry nodded back, pushing forward slowly, now half way in. The burn intensified, the stabbing pain causing Draco's eyes to water. He bit his lip, trying to stifle the whimper that was threatening to escape his lips. Harry cursed, a pleasured moan filling Draco's ears. Harry couldn't believe how incredible Draco felt. So tight...squeezing him. He just...couldn't believe it. He'd never imagined...could never had thought anything would feel this good. Every inch he sank into Draco made a torrent of pleasure assault him, sending fire into the pit of his stomach and through his veins. He noticed how tense Draco was, how his jaw was clenched and his hands were balled into fists. Draco was in pain. He stopped himself from trying to thrust in all the way.<p>

"I'm hurting-"

"Just keep going, Harry." Draco said between clenched teeth. Harry paused, but then did as he asked; partly because Draco was so insistent, and partly because it felt too damn good to stop. So Harry breathed in deeply, and pushed forward with more pressure than he'd exerted before, feeling himself sink completely into that tight, all-encompassing heat. Harry's eyes squinted closed and he called out in pure pleasure, as Draco called out in pain. Harry's eyes snapped open at the sound and he looked down at Draco, whose face was pale and his eyes were shut. His mouth was a thin line, and his teeth worried his lower lip. Harry felt his heart fall. He kept perfectly still, not wanting to move for fear that he'd hurt Draco even more. Draco's eyes opened slowly, and Harry noticed they were shining with wetness. Harry felt a pain in his chest, and he leaned forward, placing a soft, gentle kiss on Draco's forehead, then the tip of his nose, and then on his parted lips. Draco let out a broken sigh, kissing Harry back slowly, his tongue darting out to stroke Harry's lower lip. Harry rested his forehead against Draco's.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

Draco smiled slightly, seemed to catch himself, and wiped his face clear of emotions. "Keep going." He whispered back, moving his hips against Harry so he moved inside him. He ignored the sting of pain, and the increasing soreness. The look on Harry's face from just that movement alone was worth it.

Harry's eyes fluttered closed, and his mouth opened in and "o" of pleasure. He straightened and, opening his eyes and fixing them on Malfoy, slowly and carefully pulled almost all the way out, and gently pushed his way back in. Draco winced, but wrapped his legs tighter around Harry's slender hips. Harry groaned, repeating the action, thrusting in slow, insistent strokes. Harry doubted he'd last long. It felt too fucking incredible. But he kept it slow and careful, wanting Malfoy to be comfortable as soon as possible. And then he wanted Malfoy to scream his name before he came hard. He wanted Malfoy to feel good. He wanted him to feel like he felt. He wanted to drive him crazy. Harry continued to move inside Draco, the increasing pleasure pushing wild moans out of him.

Draco stopped feeling pained, and was now used to the feeling. He focused on looking at Potter, whose facial expression was so...wild and hot it enthralled him. He didn't feel any of the pleasure, however, until Harry shifted the position of Draco's hips so that he could go deeper. The angle caused Harry to hit this...spot. When it happened, an intense pleasure shot up through Draco's groin and made a fiery trail up his spine, making him feel hot and shaky. Draco cried out, his hips shooting up off the desk and his head bending back as his mouth opened in rapture.

Harry paused, shocked. Draco hadn't made any sounds yet, and this show of pleasure made him unbelievably excited and turned on. He didn't know what he'd done differently, but he knew he wanted to do it again. He had to see that expression on Draco's face again. So he pulled out, and pushed in roughly. Draco cried out again, his hands flying to Harry's hips and digging his pale fingers into the tan skin there.

"Ugh! More! Harder!" Draco groaned, his hips jerking upwards. Harry groaned back, pulling out and thrusting back in.

"Fu-_uuuuuck!_" Draco screamed, pushing his hips into Harry's to meet his thrusts.

Harry was going faster now, the pleasure building to the point it was almost too much to handle. Draco couldn't believe how close he was to cumming. It felt so fucking UGH! Every thrust made him see stars. Lightning was under his skin. His heart was in his throat. What Harry was _doing_to him? He thought he was losing his mind, and he didn't care. He just wanted Harry to keep fucking him. He'd never thought he'd feel this good in his life. It was indescribable. Delicious. All consuming. Addictive. Yes. He let himself think it. Potter was addictive.

Harry was moaning loudly, letting out a string of curses, and Malfoy's name. He was close. So close. But so was Draco. Harry was moving so fast and hard now, the sound of their skin slapping together spurring them both on. Malfoy was eagerly thrusting his hips back against each thrust Harry made into him, and the feel of it only became more and more fucking mind-blowing. One of Harry's hands was all over Malfoy, on his chest, passing over his nipples, squeezing his hip, pressing against his hard, flat stomach. They were both making uncontrolled sounds, as if they were communicating to each other.

Sweat rolled down Harry's nose, and he felt glad that he'd started using vision spells lately because his glasses would have fogged over, and he wouldn't be able to see Draco's face as clearly as he did now. To see him bucking beneath him, his face wracked with an animalistic pleasure. Oh god, he was sooo fucking close. He wanted Draco to cum. NOW. He quickly grabbed Draco's leaking cock and pumped it roughly in his hands as he thrust impossibly faster into him. Draco's eyes shot open, meeting Harry's hot gaze. Harry pulled out, and thrust back in as deep and hard as he could.

"OH FUCK HARRY FUUUUUCK!" Draco screamed, his back arching and his eyes screwing closed as he came all over his own chest, and on Harry's. The orgasm was like nothing Malfoy could have ever imagined in his dirtiest wet dream. It was...out of this world. It felt like he was dying and being fucking reborn or something.

At the sight of Draco like that, the feel of him, Harry let out a wild groan and jammed his hips forward, cumming inside of Draco. He slumped forward, his head falling onto Draco's warm stomach, which was moving up and down with every panting breath he took. Harry felt Draco's hand go to his hair, threading his fingers through it gently. He sighed, letting his nose skim Draco's stomach as he turned his face to rest on his other cheek.

Draco felt a foolish grin break across his face and he caught himself. He froze and yanked his hand back, cursing internally.

Shit. What was he doing? Why was he feeling this odd tightness in his chest and a fluttering in his abdomen? It was just a fuck, right? He had to take control of this. He shouldn't feel what he was feeling. He was meant to be numb now. He'd gotten what he wanted. Then how come all he wanted to do was stroke Potter's hair and kiss those lips again? Draco felt himself panicking. Shit fucking SHIT.

Harry weakly raised his head, looking up at him. He saw Draco's expression set into a cold mask.

"What's-?"

"Get off me, Potter." Draco spat, pushing Harry away and hopping off the table. Draco searched the room frantically for his clothes, and found his boxers, pulling them on.

"Draco? What-what're you doing?" Harry asked, watching as Draco found his trousers and yanked them on. He had been so happy, resting on Draco's stomach and feeling him breathe. It had been bloody incredible. So why was Draco acting this way?

"I'm getting dressed, Potter. What does it look like I'm doing?" Draco sneered, locating his shirt and putting it on inside out. He didn't notice.

Harry felt a cold dread sink in. Draco was running away. After all that, Draco was running away again. Harry let his gaze go down to the floor, and he saw his boxers, which he slowly pulled on. He cupped his neck with his hand, sighing.

"Draco...come one. There's no need to-"

Draco threw Harry's trousers at him, refusing to meet his eyes. Harry caught them, a lump building in his throat as he put them on. He spotted his shirt and went towards it, picking it up and donning it too.

The silence between them dragged on as Malfoy put on his robes and made it for the door, not looking at Harry once. Harry reached forward and grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"Draco...stop. Don't go. You don't need to act like this, okay? You-you don't. We can-"

"WE?" Draco bellowed. "What 'we', Potter? Listen, I wanted to fuck, and I got what I wanted. That's it. I don't want anything else, okay? So go take your sappy Gryffindor ideals to someone who wants them."

Harry's face fell. He felt the pain of Draco's words sink in. He shouldn't be feeling so much so quickly for Draco, but he was. And now, he felt gutted. Nothing Draco had done in the past could amount to what he'd just done. Harry didn't know people could feel things for people this quickly. And he wished he didn't. God, he fucking wished he didn't. He felt tears prick his eyes as he looked at Draco's cold, unfeeling expression. A tear slipped down Harry's cheek, leaving a wet trail down his face.

"Yeah, you got what you wanted. Congratulations, Malfoy." Harry said quietly, picking up his robes and turning, walking towards the doors and flinging them open, disappearing around a corner.

Draco watched him go, the pain in his chest all-consuming. He sank down to the floor, putting his face in his hands, his fingers tangling in his hair.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" Draco whispered to himself. The room of requirement gave him no answer, only watched on in silence.

**_*A.N: WHOA. Drama drama drama. So, a lot happened in this chapter. A lot of sex man on man stuff. Mmmm. Harry and Draco. So...it seems like Draco is pretty fucked up right now. He is definitely feeling majorly confused, and he's protecting himself the only way he can. The question is...will it always be like this? Was it a one time fuck? What is Harry feeling right now? So, pretty much, what the fuck is going on? Read and review, my hot bitches. Reviews make Harry fuck on desks. _**


	3. Fucking Potter and Fucking Feelings

***_A.N: Hell my loves! Here's the third chapter! Yay! I just want to tell yall that this won't be a long story, so only expect one or two more chapters after this. I originally only intended to do about four, but I think I'll do a little more because the pacing would be better. Any way, I love all of you reviewers! And readers who don't review, but I love you just a little less. I kid, I kid. So...what is going on with Draco and Malfoy? If I recall, they parted on nasty terms. So...read and review because reviews make boys kiss each other in front of you!_**

**Fucking Potter and Fucking Feelings**

Draco pulled the collar back on his shirt, looking at his reflection. Two purple marks were on his neck. Hickeys. He let his hand cover them as he looked at his face. It was pale, and there was a bruise from the fight two days ago. Two days ago since he'd fought Harry, and got fucked by him. Two days. And the hickeys didn't seem to be fading. And he looked like he was dead. He had rings under his eyes. He hadn't been able to get sleep. He just stared at the ceiling, and remembered Harry's face when he had told him that it was just a fuck.

"Fuck." Draco whispered, rubbing his eyes. He yanked on his robes and eyed his hair. Un-gelled, and messy. Whatever. He walked out of the bathrooms and through the main room, not looking at or talking to anyone. Pansy had approached him the day before, and he'd told her to fuck off and stalk someone else. She was now giving him the silent treatment, which was more of a blessing than a punishment. Now he could be alone in fucking peace.

As he walked through the Slytherin house entrance and made his way to the great hall, he felt a lump or nervousness form in his throat, and his heart started beating wildly. Harry hadn't been in the great hall at all yesterday. Would he be there today? Draco shook his head. No. Stop thinking about Harry. No, Potter. Stop thinking about Potter. He was supposed to have already forgotten about him by now. Fuck and forget, right? Then how come all he did was think about him? His lips tingled with the memory of his kiss, and Draco felt a yearning he didn't want to feel. He tugged on his hair, groaning. Why? Why the fuck is this happening to me? He thought, trying to will away the unwanted confusion…and growing obsession. He wasn't gay! He wasn't fucking gay! So why did thinking about Harry, a tear rolling down his cheek, make him feel like a pain was ripping through his chest? And why did the memory of Harry's head resting on Draco's stomach, his cheek warm against his skin and his nose tickling his abdomen, make him want to grin like some school girl with a crush?

"I don't like Potter. I don't like Potter." Draco mumbled to himself. The words sent a thrill of fear up his spine and he cursed under his breath. Something was happening to him. Something that bloody well shouldn't-no-_couldn't _happen to him. "Shit," he said.

He came upon the great hall and his heart sped, which must be dangerous for his health because it was already beating impossibly hard. He felt like he might be sick. He took in a shaky breath, raised his chin in the air, and fixed his expression into a self-righteous smile. He strode in, not letting his eyes immediately shoot to the Gryffindor table like they wanted to. He went to the Slytherin table and sat down next to Crabbe and Goyle, immediately putting food on his plate and not bothering to greet them. He was not in the mood to join in their pointless conversation. God, his friends were hopelessly stupid. It usually made him feel good to be surrounded by idiots. It gave him all the power. He liked being the leader. Not today. He didn't want to do anything. He just wanted to get through his classes, go into the dorms, and break shit. Punch a hole into a fucking wall. He wanted to pull his fucking hair out and scream at people.

He prodded his chicken with his fork, frowning at it. Why had he even gone down to the great hall? He wasn't even hungry. He only had breakfast yesterday. And he'd only eaten a few bites before he gave up on his eggs and went back to his dorm to sit in the common room and stare at nothing in particular. When had he become so fucking….pathetic? It wasn't right. He was Draco fucking Malfoy.

"Hello, Dray." Draco froze, mentally cringing.

"I thought you were ignoring me, Pansy." Draco drawled, not bothering to hide his boredom.

Pansy sniffed, sitting stiffly next to him. "What has your knickers in a twist, Dray?"

"None of you business, Pansy. I'm bloody fine." Draco said, stabbing at his chicken harder, his fork making a clanging sound on the plate.

"I know you better than anyone. Something is up. That's why I forgave you for your outburst. You're stroppy for a reason."

Draco groaned, finally looking her way and glaring at her. "Yeah. You. You're a fucking nuisance. Sod off."

Pansy's face dropped, and he noticed her eyes went wide and were shinier than usual. He felt guilty suddenly. Which he wasn't used to. He sighed, running his fingers through his soft, messy hair.

"Sorry, Panse. I'm just not in the mood to talk."

Pansy looked surprised, her mouth dropping open. "Did you just say…sorry?" Pansy asked.

Draco frowned. Shit. He had, hadn't he? He shook his head, going back to massacring his food with his fork. Pansy mumbled something under her breath. A few awkward moments passed before Pansy elbowed Draco in the ribs, leaning close to him to whisper something in his ear.

"Potter is staring at you." She said.

Draco's head snapped up instantly, searching the room, his breath suspended. Messy black hair. Bright green eyes. Glasses. Their eyes met. Harry was frozen in place, his face pale and drawn. Weasley and Granger were standing next to him, looking between him and Draco with worried expressions. They looked like they were expecting a fight. Draco's chest felt tight, the memories he was trying very hard to repress flooding him. His back on the desk. Harry's hands. His mouth everywhere. The smell of him, spicy and woodsy in that room. His cheeks were suddenly warm. His throat was dry. He heard himself telling Harry he'd gotten the fuck he wanted. Seeing Harry made him feel nervous and scared. And other things he didn't understand. Harry's eyes left his in a sharp movement, and he turned, striding quickly to the Gryffindor table and not looking back. Draco let out his breath, his stomach seeming to shrivel up. The ginger and the frizz head followed him, throwing Draco looks.

"What the fuck was that about? He looked like he wanted to throw you at the whomping willow."

Draco didn't respond. He watched Harry's retreating form. He didn't feel what he normally felt when he saw him. He usually felt contempt…hatred….and a stinging envy he never quite acknowledged. Now he felt….a yearning that was so strong it hurt. He wanted to go up to him and punch him in the face and tell him it was his fault he was so fucked up. And then he wanted to drag him into the room of requirement and beg him to touch him again. And Malfoy's didn't beg. And they certainly didn't turn out to be fucking queers.

Draco heard the word echo in his head. Queer. His hands balled into fists. He couldn't be queer. And certainly not for Potter. His enemy from day one. But he'd never felt this way before. Not for anyone. And it was hitting him so hard. It was like a craving. He wanted his hands on him again. And he wanted it all the time. He wanted it now. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fucking FAIR. He shouldn't have fought Potter after potions class. He shouldn't have kissed him that first time. It turned everything he knew about himself upside down. Malfoy's apologized for nothing. And now he wanted to tell Harry he was sorry he'd been such a prat, and he hadn't meant it. And he had just been angry and confused. He wanted to burn in that fire that seemed to spring up whenever they were close.

"No no no no." Draco groaned, shoving his plate aside and letting his head hit the table.

"Draco? What's wrong?" Pansy asked, her voice frantic, a hand flying to his back.

"I'm so fucked up. This is so fucked." Draco mumbled, his hands fisting in his hair painfully.

"Is it Potter? Has he threatened you?"

"No." Draco said, turning his head so his cheek was flat against the table. He noticed Crabbe and Goyle were gaping at him. Draco never lost it. He was always cold and calm.

"Draco…you're being, er, odd. What's going on?" Pansy asked.

Draco moved his back, making her hand drop away. He stood up, cast another glance at the Gryffindor table to the chaos that was Harry's hair, and walked as quickly as he could without actually running out of the great hall. Pansy watched him go, eyebrows drawing together as her gaze shot between Draco and Harry. Something was up. Draco never lost his cool.

…...

"Harry, you've got to eat. It isn't healthy. You're skinny enough as it is." Hermione said, her voice maternal in it's worry.

"Not hungry." Harry mumbled, not even bothering to fill his plate. Hermione and Ron had dragged him down to the great hall, insisting he needed to eat. But he had no appetite. Also, he might run into Draco. Which was something he wanted to avoid at all costs. Sure enough, when he'd been forced to go down to the great hall, his eyes immediately went to the Slytherin table, and he saw white blonde hair. It was hanging in his eyes, sticking up in some places in messy spikes. It looked like he'd just been shagged. The thought caused heat to pool into Harry's abdomen, where it churned.

Harry had paused, his heart in his throat, which had gone dry. He looked bad. As bad as Harry. His face was pale, and he had dark rings under his eyes. His robes were wrinkled and his tie knot was hanging loose on his throat. Harry tried to drag his eyes away when he saw Pansy whisper something to Draco, and all of a sudden their eyes locked. It felt like he was being hypnotized. The shock that went through his body was intense, and a pain ripped through his chest, which was pounding with every heart beat. He didn't like the loss of control that seemed to happen whenever he saw him. This was what he had been avoiding. This was why he had gone straight from class to his room yesterday and the day before. But that didn't mean Draco wasn't all Harry thought about. He was on his mind just about every second. He tried to distract himself, but he couldn't. He thought of his mouth parted with passion. He thought of how his kisses felt on his skin. He'd get hard instantly, and then he'd remember the look he had on his face when he told him it was only a fuck, and the complete pain that had taken over him at that moment, and he'd hate himself. He hated how weak he was, and how much power Draco had over him. He hated that he felt so much for someone who seemed to be nothing more than a completely unfeeling prick. He hated that he was suddenly gay, and it was all because of Draco, someone who didn't return any of his feelings. He hated how Draco had given him false hope.

Harry scowled, bringing himself back to reality. His back tensed. Draco was sitting at the Slytherin table. All he'd have to do is turn his head, and he'd be able to look at him. And he knew he'd feel relieved, like a drug addict getting his fix. But he didn't look. No. Because Draco Malfoy was a complete arse-hole. Harry had his first sexual experiences with him, and Draco threw it away. Harry didn't want to admit it, but Draco had fucking hurt him. Badly. And now he was pissed off, more depressed than he'd ever been, and still wanting him more than anything else. And now he had to work on forgetting him, and getting rid of these feelings. Great. Fucking great.

A movement in the corner of his eye caused Harry to see Draco practically flying out of the great hall, and his body twitched towards him as if he was going to follow, but he stilled himself, his hands balling into fists. He scowled, turning away. Fuck Draco Malfoy. Harry's frown intensified. Even in his mind, it sounded unconvincing.

…...

"Hey, Draco. You look like you could use a good drink." Zambini said, his hands behind his head and his feet resting on the table in front of him. He was out of his school robes, and he didn't have his bag.

"Aren't you meant to have class in a few?" Draco asked him, going to sit on the couch opposite him.

"Yeah. But it's Friday, and I can't be fucked to go. Plus, I have a bottle of fire whiskey which is begging me to drink it. Want to get sloshed? You look like complete shit, mate." Zambini said, wrinkling his nose.

"Shut up." Draco said, considering the offer. Maybe he_ did_ need to get drunk. He was depressed as fuck, and he hadn't gotten really drunk before. He'd had drinks before, but he always thought getting drunk wasn't classy. It wasn't befitting of a pure-blood wizard. It made people idiots. But he wanted to forget about how awful he felt. He wanted to stop thinking about Harry. He wanted to do something self destructive. Maybe it'd help. He ran his fingers through his hair, shrugging.

"Why not." He said.

Zambini grinned. " No way. Draco Malfoy wanting to have fun? Are you under some sort of spell? Do you need to go to St. Mongo's?"

"Shut up and get the bottle, Zambini." Draco said, putting his nose in the air.

Zambini laughed, and flicked his wand.

"Accio Firewhiskey" he said, the bottle suddenly flying into the common room and into Zambini's hand. He opened the bottle and put it to his lips, tipping his head back and chugging down a good bit.

"Ah." He said, sounding satisfied. "Your turn." He said. Draco eyed the bottle, a bit uneasy about sharing it. That couldn't be very hygienic. He sighed, going over to sit next to Zambini and taking the bottle from him, grimacing at the smell of the liquor. He shook away the disgust and followed suit, taking a healthy swig of the fire whiskey. It burned his throat and he had to repress the urge to splutter and cough.

"Don't be a pussy, Malfoy. Drink more than that." Zambini said snidely. Draco glared at him. He was _not _a pussy. He tipped the bottle back and chugged, his eyes screwed shut. He felt suddenly light headed, and his stomach was getting warm.

…...

"I-I fucking HATE Potter. Didja know? Didja…I hate him. Bloody scar head." Draco slurred passing the bottle back to Zambini. It was almost finished. Zambini rolled his eyes, trying to get his hands around the bottle but missing. He tried again, mumbling something as he grasped it clumsily.

"No shit, Sherlock. You never bloody shut up about it."

"Oh. Er, right. Yeah. S'true though. Yer." Draco said. The room was a bit spinny. And his brain was fuzzy. He felt very strange. He felt oddly giggly. And his skin was tingly. He slumped against the couch. He was most definitely sloshed off his arse. It was a baaad idea. Yes. Bad bad bad. Because he was starting to think he should find Potter. Mhm. Find Harry. Find Harry and convince him to fuck him again. Because it was fucking hot and messy and sloppy and perfect. He hadn't had sex before, and he certainly had never been fucked in the arse before…but he was 100 percent sure Harry was a great fuck. Draco felt his lips twitch into a crooked smile. Yer. Harry Potter had taken his fucking virginity, and Draco found that immensely hilarious. He started laughing. Haha. Harry Potter took his virginity. And he'd bet his wand that he'd taken his too.

"What the fuck are you laughing about?" Zambini slurred, though grinning.

"Fucking." Draco wheezed, laughing harder.

Zambini looked confused, eyebrows raising. "What about fucking?" He asked.

Draco fought to come up with an answer.

"Uh…well…it's…it's a bit odd isn't it?" Draco said dumbly, and found this even funnier. Zambini broke out into laughter too.

"You are way more fun when you're drunk, you bloody idiot." Zambini said, handing him the last of the fire whiskey. Draco took it.

Harry. When he thought about him, his stomach got all fluttery and his heart sped up. Draco frowned. Did he like Potter? He might do. Huh. Being drunk was weird. It didn't make him feel as concerned as he should be. Now, he just wanted to go to Harry and be bent as fuck. And he didn't even feel bad about it. Nope. He chugged down the fire whiskey and stood up, swaying and grunting at the sudden dizziness he felt.

"Whoa whoa whoa, Malfoy. Hold your hippogriff. You're about a second away from falling off yer broom." Zambini said, chuckling at himself.

"S'fine. S'fine. Yer not my mum."

"No. If I was yer mum I'd want to fuck myself." Zambini said, cackling.

Draco grimaced. "S-shut up. I-I'm going to go...walk around a bit. Fresh air."

Zambini tried to stand up.

"No. You stay. I-I'll be back in a bit, yeah?" Draco said, swaying again.

"You have to puke, don't you?" Zambini asked, smirking.

Draco raised an eyebrow. Would that get him off his back? Yeeer. Why not. He nodded vigorously.

"Yer. I have to puke all over myself. So I'll be back in a bit."

Zambini laughed his ass off.

"You are a fucking light weight, Malfoy." He said.

"Sure. Yer." He said, stumbling away from the couches and out of the Slytherin dorms, which was suddenly bloody hard. Shit. He would have to pull himself together. If the professors found out he was drunk he'd be in trouble. He grinned foolishly. He was drunk. Where would he go? Gryffindor tower? Yeah. Potter would be there. Mhm. That was a good idea. He'd just go up to the portrait and knock and demand Harry show his face. Brilliant idea.

…...

Draco stood, glaring at the fat lady.

"L-Listen here, you fat CUNT. Lemme….lemme in there. Or bring Potter out." He said imperiously, sticking his nose in the air.

The fat lady spluttered. "How DARE you! You are a disgrace to the name of Hogwarts, young man-!"

"Oh shove it in your arsehole and bloody get me Potter!" Draco bellowed, flinging his arms in the air.

"I will do no such thing! Leave this instant or-!"

The portrait swung open, revealing what looked like a first year Gryffindor, who looked at Malfoy with wide, frightened eyes.

"Eh…uh…eh-excuse me. I-is th-there s-something you n-need?" The boy stuttered, about to wet himself.

Draco stuck his chin in the air, ignoring the screeching of the Fat Lady "Fetch me Potter. I need to-to talk to him this instant."

The boy looked uncertain, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Y-you're a-a S-Slytherin, aren't you?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "What gave it away, my bloody Slytherin robes? I'm also a 6th year, so I have seniority over you. Get Potter." Malfoy said snapping his fingers. He was fighting very hard not to laugh at the stricken look the boy had. He was also struggling to stay upright. The hallway was moving around a bit.

"Well?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow. The boy gulped and nodded, running off. Draco felt himself laughing under his breath. That boy was funny. All scared and jittery. Draco usually despised first years, but he liked this one. Draco felt another wave of dizziness hit him he stumbled forward, leaning his back against the wall. Ah. That was better. Had walls always been this comfortable? Surely not. Or maybe they were and he just-

"What the fuck are you doing here, Malfoy? Are you bloody insane?"

The harsh whisper drug Malfoy out of his mental raving and he hopped away from the wall, whirling around to see a very pissed off, very out of robes Potter. He was in a grey V-neck shirt and black pajama pants, low enough on his hips that Draco could see the grey band of his underwear. Harry's hair was even messier than usual. It looked like he'd been running his fingers through it obsessively. Draco didn't realize he was ogling until Harry made an irritated sound.

"Well? What the fuck are you doing here?" He asked again.

"You….uh…you're wearing pajamas." Draco said, feeling instantly idiotic. Shit. He'd never felt so out of control of himself. No barrier between brain and mouth. And he couldn't stop staring at Harry's underwear. He saw the tinniest sliver of Harry's skin when he moved his hand to his hair and tugged on it. Draco's eyes flashed to Harry's face. He looked confused for half a second, before his expression went stern again.

"What are you _on _about?" He demanded, looking around for people.

Draco swayed forward, frowning. "I dunno. I just wanted to…dunno." He sighed. How was he supposed to approach this? He leaned forward more, and Harry moved back. "I-I haven't seen you around. But, you know? Bit confused. Bit pissed off. And I've seen you naked." His eyes flicked back to the band of Harry's underwear and he felt himself go hard. How did Harry affect him this way? It was bloody insane. Harry looked shocked, checking behind him. He grabbed Draco's arm and led him down the hall, taking them to a dark corner. He let go of Draco hastily, his eyebrows drawn together and looking even more pissed off than before.

"Are you drunk?" He whispered, spitting out the words.

Draco grinned.

"Shit." Harry said, putting his hand to his face. "Are you daft?" He asked, throwing his hands in the air.

Draco shook his head. "No. I'm a Malfoy. We are vastly superior –" He stopped, finding himself hilarious and he broke into loud laughter, and Harry clapped his hand over his mouth to silence.

"Go back to your fucking room." He said, preparing to turn around. What was Draco _thinking? _Showing up at his dorms! After what happened….was he doing this just to make Harry feel even shittier? Just seeing him again was fucking with him. And they were so close, and he could smell him and he smelled so _good. _And Harry was getting dangerously turned on just being near him. But Draco was a complete ass-hole. He fucking hurt Harry. And what was Draco playing at by seeing Harry? Was he just going to torture him? He was acting so out of character. Draco was completely sloshed. That didn't seem like the kind of thing Draco would do. He was acting so different. He'd never even heard Draco laugh before, unless it was at his expense. But when he'd laughed just now, it sounded completely different. It was throaty and infectious, and it lit his face up. He'd bloody _grinned _. He'd most certainly never seen Draco smile before. Only that trademark sneer. It made Harry think he was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. And that made him fucking _mad. _Was Draco just trying to make Harry feel even more for him just so he could fuck him over again? It wasn't fair. He was giving Harry an aching hope he didn't want. Why the hell was he feeling so strongly for Draco so soon? He'd never felt this way before. Never. He didn't even know he _could _feel this way. And he fucking hated it.

As he turned, Draco grabbed his arm. Harry felt a thrill up his spine, and hated how the merest touch of Draco's fingers on his arm made fire flare up under his skin and his heart stop for half a second. He turned his head and glared at Draco, who was still smiling slightly.

"Oi! Where are you going? I trudged all the way into enemy territory to-"

"To WHAT? I don't want to see you, okay? I gave you a chance to talk to me, and you threw it in my face. That's the end of it."

Draco's face fell, and his grip on Harry's arm loosened but he didn't let go. His eyes dropped to his feet.

"Harry….I'm a bit fucked up." Draco said. His hand slipped lower on Harry's arm, so that his thumb stroked the inside of Harry's elbow. Harry shivered, closing his eyes. Then he caught himself and yanked his arm away. Don't let Draco do this to you again.

"You're drunk, Malfoy. You don't know what you're doing, and I'm not going to be your drunken experiment. Go back to your Slytherin dorms." Harry said, his voice empty. Before he could turn away again, Draco's arms shot out around Harry's neck and he pulled him against his body, letting his lips roughly meet Harry's. Harry was shocked, not moving. The instant of hesitation was enough for Draco to put his hand on Harry's face, his thumb gently stroking his cheek. The feel of Draco's lips on his sent Harry into an intoxicated stupor, his body was alight with such an intense desire it scared him. This kiss was different. It was intense, and it felt like it was full of an emotion Harry didn't dare think Draco felt. Draco's other arm was slung around Harry's hip, caressing his lower back. Harry snapped back to reality when Draco moaned gently against his mouth and he felt his tongue tease his lower lip. Harry pushed Draco away.

"Don't." He said, backing away. Draco was going to hurt him all over again. He was drunk. He had no idea what he wanted. Harry wasn't going to let himself hope just because Draco was showing him the merest hint of affection. He had to get over these unexpected feelings for Draco, and this wasn't helping. It gutted him. Draco's expression was hard to look at. It was pained. Draco slid his hand into his hair, and Harry saw his collar move back slightly, and he saw hickeys there. Marks his mouth had made. Harry's mouth went dry and he shook his head to clear it.

"Just…go." Harry whispered.

"I'm sorry, Harry." Draco said, his eyes downcast. "I'm fucking sorry."

Harry felt his heart leap and he stepped back, away from Draco. Draco said he was sorry. But he couldn't mean it. No. No. He couldn't see Draco like this. He couldn't see him vulnerable like this. Because it wasn't real. It couldn't be. If it was, there was no way Harry could ever drag himself away. He'd known Draco for too long to think that he could possibly mean it. People couldn't do a complete 180 in a few days.

_You did. _

Harry pushed away the thought and turned his back on Draco, running back to the portrait hole and shutting the entrance, hard. He slumped against the portrait, breathing hard, fresh tears slipping down his cheeks, just as they so often did since the last time he'd been with Draco in the room of requirement. He fisted his fingers in his hair, tugging hard until it hurt. Falling in love with Draco Malfoy was tearing him apart.

Draco stood alone in the hallway, staring at where Harry had just been.

"Wait…" He croaked, even though Harry couldn't hear him. "Wait…"

**_*A.N: AHHH! Oh my god. Intense shit. Hee hee. Drunk Draco is my favorite. So, was it all just because he was drunk, or is Draco really sorry? Is he really changing? What will happen when the booze is gone and Draco has to face what he's feeling? Wow. That sounded dramatic. Keep reading, and review because for every review you make, Draco takes a shot of firewhiskey. And we all know how he gets when he drinks firewhiskey. RAWR. _**


	4. Fucking Hangover and Fucking Changes

**_* A.N: I know it's been fucking ages, so let's cut to the chase. Read and review, because reviews make Harry super horny. Like, megahorny with a side of horny._**

Fucking Hangovers and Fucking Changes

"Draco! Wake up, you plonker!" Draco groaned, rolling over onto his stomach and away from the hand shaking him.

"Fuck off." He mumbled. Dracos' head was killing him. It felt like bludgers were banging around inside his brain. Fuck firewhiskey. Fuck getting drunk. It was bloody awful.

"Draco! Wake up and put on some bloody clothes! I'm doing you a favor!" Zambini's tone, which signaled a barely restrained laughter, caused Draco to crack open an eye. Sure enough, Blaise was looking positively overjoyed.

"Eh? What are you on about?"

"Well…you seem to be passed out naked next to the fireplace, and you're lucky I'm the only one awake-"

"Bullocks." Draco said, eyes fluttering closed. Then he felt a draft. He was bloody freezing. And he felt the floor on his back…no clothes in the way. Draco's eyes snapped open and he sat up, looking down.

"Fuck!" Draco snapped, looking around hastily for something to cover himself with.

Zambini was laughing his arse off.

"Here, mate." Zambini said, handing Draco jeans and a shirt. Draco snatched them out of his hands, pulling them on roughly. Draco stood up, his head protesting and his stomach churning. He clapped his hand to his mouth. "Shit…are you going to-?"

Draco rushed past him into the loos and puked noisily, knees on the cold stone floor and hands braced on the sides of the toilet.

"Fuck…." Draco mumbled. This was humiliating. Draco Malfoy, waking up naked and puking in a toilet like a fucking commoner. What had he been thinking? This was so unlike him. He hated the changes he was going through. All he could think about was Harry fucking Potter, and how all of a sudden he cared about things. Like, once again, Harry fucking Potter. And he thought he'd said sorry about three times in the last day. Draco groaned again, flashes of last night coming back to him. Most of it was a blur, dream like, even. How he'd gotten to Gryffindor tower was completely blank. He could, however, remember his conversation with Harry perfectly well. That's the bit he wished he could forget.

"Obliviate me." Draco mumbled, resting his head on his arms, which were splayed on the toilet seat. He couldn't believe he was where he was right now. Where had his fucking hatred gone? When was it replaced with this pain and longing? Why couldn't he just go back to how he was before? Not giving a flying fuck about anything. Those were the good days. This uncertainty sucked complete bullocks. He'd gone up to Harry, and opened up as much was humanly possible for him. He'd never been so vulnerable in his whole life. And where did it get him? Bloody nowhere. He'd made a fucking mess of himself.

"Er…Draco? You alright, mate?" Zambini asked.

"No, I'm not bloody okay; I woke up naked in the common room."

Zambinin chuckled. "Yeah. How did you manage that?"

Draco frowned, trying to grasp at some memories. He got random flashes of stumbling back to the Slytherin dorms….he flexed his hand. He'd punched through a wall….ouch. Fuck. His knuckles hurt. He couldn't remember actually getting into the common room….he'd gotten into bed, clothes on…..and…and…fuck. He remembered getting an idea…..to get naked and go back to Gryffindor tower and see if that'd get a reaction from Harry. He must've passed out before he got the chance. Thank Merlin for that.

"Fucking _hell_…" Draco moaned, feeling his stomach churn again, and he bent his head over the loo and vomited painfully. No. He was never drinking again. He couldn't believe what a fucking idiot he had been! It was completely humiliating. What had Harry done to him? Draco was feeling things he'd never felt before, and he hated it. It was like Harry had created something in him…..something that twisted and turned and made him feel nervous and sick and warm and…fucking fuck fuck FUCK fuck. Why did this have to happen to him? Why? This wasn't him! He was some different person now. And he hated that person.

"Merlin, this is fucking foul." Zambini said, from further away. He must have moved back.

"Leave me alone, Blaise." Draco mumbled. He didn't want to be seen like this.

"Oh, come off it, you whiny git. I've been sick from drinking loads of times. Although, usually, when I wake up naked I'm not alone." Zambini said, laughing lecherously.

"Shut up." Draco said, wiping his mouth and standing up shakily. He waited a moment to determine whether or not he had to vomit again, but he didn't. He went to the sink and splashed cold water on his face. He would take a shower, brush his teeth and…at some point he'd have to find Harry. The thought made him nervous, and he seriously considered simply avoiding him, but he wasn't a coward.

Then why did he feel so fucking scared?

"Are those love bites?" He heard Zambini ask, taking a step forward and gaping.

Draco's hand flew to his neck, covering the marks. Shit.

"No. Bruises. Don't remember how I got them, but they're everywhere." Draco said.

Zambini arched a brow. "Odd place for bruises."

Draco shrugged, striding past him. He needed to fucking shower, and he didn't like the suspicion in Blaise's expression. Okay. Shower. Brush teeth. Find Harry. But…what would he do once he'd found him? He had no bloody idea. He didn't want to admit it, but he had to. He had…._feelings _for Harry. And he needed to talk to him. Sort things out. But what did he think that would solve? Did he want to be with Harry? He thought he might, but the thought scared the bloody hell out of him. They were too different. Too much had happened in the past for them to work out but….he needed to talk to him. Needed to fix what he'd fucked up.

Who are you, Draco Malfoy?

…..

Harry came into his hand with a groan, panting and eyes squinted shut. This had to fucking stop. He'd been wanking without pause ever since the room of requirement incident. He kept thinking about Draco, and when he did he'd go hard immediately, and no matter how much he tried he couldn't get it to go down. So he'd wank.

Touching himself while thinking about Draco made for the best wanking he'd ever done. But he knew it wasn't healthy. Thinking about fucking a bloke and masturbating probably isn't the best way to get over said bloke. But he couldn't fucking help it. There was something about Draco that made Harry feel like he was bloody insane. He felt like a drug addict or something. This couldn't be normal. Someone couldn't fall in love with a person this fast.

Harry groaned, getting his wand and performing a cleaning spell. Falling in love. Fuck. That's what was happening, right? When all you can think about is that person, just being fucking near them and seeing them and hearing them and touching them and blah fucking blah. Yes. Harry reckoned he was falling in love. He couldn't have chosen a worse person to fall for either. Harry did his pants up and threw his bed curtains open, removing the silencing spell he'd done.

Draco had been so different last night; it had completely done Harry in. He was even more bloody confused now than he'd been earlier. Seeing Draco so vulnerable, no pretenses….it really fucked with him. And now he had to work even harder to get over him, which shouldn't be so fucking hard to do so early on.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" Harry whispered to himself, putting his face in his hands. _Draco Malfoy_ was definitely what was wrong with him.

Ron was still asleep, which suited Harry just fine because he wanted to be alone for a bit. It seemed like he felt like being alone a lot lately. His life was turning upside down.

Harry sighed, standing up and stretching. He'd wander around the castle for a bit….maybe go outside for fresh air. He just needed to get away for a bit.

He pulled on a pair of jeans and a white V-neck shirt rolled up to his elbows. Yeah. He'd just go around the castle for a bit.

…

Draco pulled on a pair of jeans, frowning. He'd never worn these ones before. They were rather tight. Skinny jeans or something. Black skinny jeans. Draco eyed himself in the mirror. It looked good….just a bit different. He had no idea what shirt to wear. Why the fuck was he so worried about how he looked? He was always so confident in himself. Now he was nervous as hell, and he'd changed 4 bloody times…because he was going to find Harry.

"This is a bad idea." Draco mumbled, going back to his pile of clothes to find a shirt. He picked up a black tee-shirt and put it on. The shirt was very soft. It was one of his favorites. He sighed, going to the mirror again. God. He looked like a villain. Which, he guessed, he may be. To Harry, at least.

Despite this, he thought he liked how he looked. The black was stark against his skin, and it made his grey eyes stand out. He ran his fingers through his hair. It was still un-gelled. Soft. Flopping over one of his eyes and sticking out in messy tufts in some places. He actually liked it like this. Draco smirked. Just a few days ago, he would get caught dead with his hair looking like he'd been shagged senseless. It was messy. Like Harry's. Draco took a deep breath. Okay. He'd go find Harry and say…something. God. He had no idea what he'd say. Or do. But he needed to see him.

"I am such a poof." Draco said to his reflection, shaking his head and putting his hand on his forehead. He didn't know how he'd managed to change so much so quickly, but maybe it wasn't a bad thing.

Harry. Draco cracked a small smile. I bloody like Harry Potter.

….

Draco walked down a long corridor, feeling slightly self-conscious. Quite a few people were looking at him as though he'd grown tits on his face. He supposed he _did _look a bit different than he usually did. Whatever. He didn't care about what people thought. He was on a Potter seeking mission. He'd go to Gryffindor towers, and ask someone to get Harry for him. He smirked. This was exactly like his plan last night, except he wanted to do a bit better this time. Maybe avoid humiliating himself. Although lately, it seemed as though it was inevitable. Harry made him lose it.

Draco shrugged, trying to ignore his stomach which suddenly felt sick, and his heart which was in his throat. What was he thinking? Going to find Harry and trying to talk to him. He was turning into a total nutter. He took a deep breath. No. He'd been trying to talk himself out of this all morning. Just keep going. Just go to Gryffindor tower and-Draco stopped in his tracks, and then backed up, looking out of the window to his left. He saw a mess of black hair, jeans, and a white shirt. The figure was walking towards the forest. Draco took a sharp breath. He'd know that hair anywhere. It was Harry. He had to catch up to him. Draco started running.

….

Harry didn't really know where he was trying to go. He seemed to be heading to the forbidden forest. Oh well. Why not. He'd just sit on the outskirts, on a trunk or something. When had be become such a depressing person? Wanting to sit alone next to a dark, dank forest. Harry rolled his eyes at himself. He was so fucked up right now. When would it get better? How much time would it take?

Harry continued walking, getting closer and closer to the looming trees, which seemed to have a life of their own.

"You realize the forest is forbidden for a reason, right?"

Harry 's next step faltered, and he stumbled in place. He whirled around. Draco. Draco, in tight jeans. Draco with messy hair and hickeys on display. Draco in a black shirt that clung to him just a little bit. God. Shoot me now.

"Dra-Malfoy? Are you bloody following me?" Harry asked, his voice a little louder than he'd intended. He balled his hands into fists.

Draco shrugged. "A bit, yeah. You know it's dangerous, going into the forbidden forest. And I'd rather not go in with you again. Creepy shit happens to unicorns in there." Draco said, cracking a crooked smile.

Harry was confused for a moment, before he remembered his first year at Hogwarts. He almost smiled back, but caught himself, mentally cursing. Great. Draco was being funny now. Harry had been hoping it was just because he'd been drunk. It'd be so much easier if Draco was being a prick.

"Yeah? Well don't come with me. Go back inside, Malfoy." Harry said emotionlessly.

Draco put his hands in his pockets, tilting his head.

"Do you want me to?"

Harry felt his eyebrows draw together. "Do I want you to what?"

"Go inside?" Draco was smiling again. What the fuck was he playing at? Was he putting on an act? This just wasn't…normal.

"Er…yeah. Yes. Just…go away, Draco. I'm not in the mood for your shit today."

Harry turned, preparing to go deeper into the forest.

"Oi! Hold up, Harry. I want to talk to you."

Harry paused, closing his eyes and trying to count till ten. This couldn't be good. He couldn't be around Draco. It was bad for him. And he had no idea what was going through Draco's mind. He was acting so fucking different. Harry faced Draco, walking up to him until they were about a foot apart. He had to make Draco leave.

"I don't want to talk, Draco. You are a complete prick. And you're a sociopathic asshole. I told you I might like you, and you told me you just wanted a fuck. That's enough talking, I think. So please. Do me a favor and FUCK OFF." He screamed the last bit, thrusting his hand towards the castle.

Draco stood still, his face going pale. "You're right." It was so quiet; Harry didn't dare believe he actually heard it. "I've been an evil prick. What do you expect? I'm a Slytherin." Draco said, glancing up at Harry and smiling sheepishly. "But I'm here, aren't I? And…you know…wanting to talk and such. Sort of a big step for me."

Harry just stared, gaping. He had no idea what was going on. What the fuck was happening? This was not Draco. Was he under the imperius curse? Harry was caught off guard.

"Uh…what?"

Draco smirked, his hand going through his hair, making it even messier. "Talking, it's where we say words to each other."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I know what talking is, prat. I just don't get what it is you want to talk about. It's all been said."

Draco's eyebrows furrowed. "Yeah. But what if my stance has changed? Look. For some reason, all I can think about is you. You and your stupid mouth and hair and fucking eyes and I must be going crazy or something. I've been apologizing lately! That isn't me. Or it wasn't. I dunno. I'm changing or something. And I feel weird things about you that definitely isn't hate and now I have to get used to the idea of being bent…which I bet Pansy would just _love _to find out about. Merlin, she'll have my head. And the only reason I freaked out after we…you know….was because I'm bloody confused as hell. I mean, we hated each other, right? Enemies for life…and now I'm wanking over you and holy SHIT I can't believe I just said that, because normally I wouldn't admit to that...but once again I'm turning into a fucking nutter….like looney lovegood-"

Harry put his hand over Draco's mouth, "Stop," he said. He'd never heard Draco say so much in all the years he knew him. And he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Draco was saying he was bent, and that he had feelings for Harry. Harry felt his stomach get tight, and his heart was beating a mile a minute. He wanted to believe him….but if he did…..then things would change. Then, they'd both said they'd had feelings and then maybe they'd start seeing each other…and Harry was fucking worried that Draco would wreck him. He was even more worried by just how badly he wanted to be with him, despite that possibility.

"Why are you doing this to me, Draco?" Harry asked quietly. "You're fucking with my head, you know that?"

Draco encircled Harry's wrist with his fingers and pried his hand away from his mouth.

"I'm sorry I'm fucking with your head. I was…an idiot before. But I was finding out I was gay, Harry. And I'm a Malfoy, and a Slytherin….and this is going to change my entire life. I just didn't deal with it very well. I'm not saying I'm going to suddenly be a giant ball of sunshine…but I'm trying….or something. And I like you. So please stop being a pussy and running off into forbidden forests, Harry. It isn't very Gryffindor of you and-"

Harry grabbed Draco's shirt and yanked him forward and crashed their lips together. Hard. Draco made a low sound in his throat, his hands going to Harry's waist to pull him closer.

Draco thought he'd sounded like a complete idiot, which he never used to worry about. But it must have paid of somehow, because Harry's tongue was sliding hotly into his mouth and he tasted so fucking good. Even better than Draco had remembered. And their mouths were grinding against each other and their lips were meeting and parting with increasing intensity. Draco moaned, one hand going to Harry's jaw and the other threading through his hair and tugging. Harry's tongue was sliding sensually against his, and his body was pressed right up against him. Draco could feel Harry's hardness grinding into him, and he groaned in triumph.

He was here. Kissing Harry. He didn't know what he said exactly to change his mind, but he was so fucking glad he said it. He bit on Harry's lip, running his hand up the back of his shirt and feeling the hot, smooth skin there. Harry moaned, pulling away.

"What is it about you, Draco? No matter whether I like you or hate you, you always drive me bloody insane. That's not on." Harry panted, his forehead resting against Draco's.

Draco shrugged. "Maybe I'm just excellent at everything."

Harry cracked a smile, encircling Draco's waist with his hands. "Yeah? I'll make it harder for you then. If you seriously want to talk, prove it. I'm not going to trust you in a day. Do something to show me you're serious, and then we'll talk."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Can we go on snogging though? This is starting to get boring."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Shove off. I mean it. Do something to show me you want this, and then we'll talk."

"Isn't following you into the bloody woods enough?" Draco asked, leaning forward to try and catch Harry's lips with his. Harry moved back, letting go of Draco.

"Think about it, Draco." He said, winking and walking away, leaving Draco standing there feeling a bit like a prat.

What the fuck did Harry want him to do?

**_*A.N: Tee-hee. Aint I a scamp? So...Draco has to do something to prove to Harry he's actually ready to talk...and that he can be trusted. What oh what will he do? Keep reading and find out! There's only going to be one chapter left...maybe two if I'm feeling it. Review my lovelies, because reviews are the shit!_**


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